


Getting lost can be fun

by Mitsuky



Series: Bunnies-box [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Hadvar doesn't enjoy his new fangirls, Long explanations about the Demon World popping up, Multi, Riverwood (Elder Scrolls), Surviving Helgen, mentions of alternate universes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mitsuky/pseuds/Mitsuky
Summary: Rose crashlands on Skyrim, just as the world is going ass up. Her intervention delays Alduin's return for a minute and two prisoners loose their heads.How is she supposed to return home now, and where is her friend?
Relationships: Hadvar & Rose
Series: Bunnies-box [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863139





	1. Let's go travelling

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't get this out of my head, so I wrote it down.  
> Enjoy it!

###### Making the bags is easy when you can just heap everything inside your pocket-dimension

Heavy knocking sounded inside the room, while streaks of light fell over heavy blankets that moved as the occupant of the bed awakened with the racket and rolled sideways. More noise and a grunt came from under the sheets this time. Small specs of dust danced in the air, becoming visible as they moved from the darkness to the rays of sunlight, and those were disrupted when knocking echoed inside the room for a third time, making a dark head of hair emerged from under the covers with an angry puff of air; the air currents became wild then as the sheets fanned over the big bed, falling half-way to the floor. More knocking made the dark red eyes turn a glare in the direction of the heavy oak door.

“GET IN! …Damn it all.”

When the door opened slightly, a head of luscious golden locks peeked over the rim, and bright blue eyes took in her form still lying on the bed.

“Sorry to wake you up, _chérie_ 1, but it’s late and I _really_ want to avoid _la colère de ma petite soeur_ 2. She was looking forward to seeing you-”

“Yes, I know,” the woman cut in with an annoyed voice, sitting on the bed, exposing her naked torso, and rubbing the sleep from her eyes lazily. “As if the dozen of messages pinging on my phone, _daily_ , weren’t enough to clue me in,” she snorted, turning her head in his direction and frowning. “Well? Don’t stand there like a fool. Come in and let the maids do their job already.”

Her best-friend opened the door ajar this time, walking into her room and turning on his charm at the help waiting patiently behind him. “ _Mes excuses_ 3,” he said to the maids hurrying inside, with honey dripping from his words, causing them to flush profusely as they enjoyed his flirtatious flair.

Covering her face and hissing a little when one of the maids opened the curtains to the blinding sunlight of the early morning, she giggled as the woman murmured under her breath about her lack of decorum in the presence of guests, and eyed her sideways.

“Is not like he hasn’t seen it all before, you know?” She said turning an amused smile at her maid.

The servant harrumphed and turned her back, opening more curtains and windows as she went, airing the room, and hurrying the others to prepare her bath and clothing for the day.

“I hope you don’t take long, we’re late _pour le petit déjeuner_ 4 with my family, enough as it is.”

“Have you met me, Zéphyrine?” She rolled her eyes at her friend.

“For over two hundred years, Rose, dear, and it’s exactly why I’m reminding you about it. You’re so lazy in the mornings-”

“When I’ve drunk the previous night,” she corrected and he conceded her point with a small dip of his head. “Because I’m usually up before the crack of dawn, _hours before you_.”

“Last night’s party was wild though,” he smiled sitting on the windowsill and eyeing her with a roaming gaze as she stood from her bed and stretched in her birthday attire. “And that you usually wake up early to train, doesn’t mean you’re less lazy.”

“That it was,” she agreed with a smile at him for his first comment about the party, ignoring the second entirely, “I think I’ll be amenable to attend Prince Taliesin’s soirees more often.”

Zéphyrine laughed softly, a crocked smile taking over his face and adorable dimples making him look younger and cuter than his five centuries would suggest as possible. “Does your decision have anything to do with your sudden disappearance last night, into said Prince’s chambers, until _hours_ later?”

“May-be?” She sang playfully, halfway behind the gold-trimmed doors of her bathroom.

Rose walked under the showerhead and sighed as the warmth washed over her and brushed off the soft chill of the morning air. She didn’t take long scrubbing down the smell of alcohol, perfume, tobacco, and sex from the previous night off of her body, enjoying the soft and natural scent of her soap remaining on her skin once she was done. She’s never understood how others can stand the strong smells from their own choice of toiletries and strongly scented perfumes, when her nose becomes numb by just being in the same room as them and she also has to fight the urge to heave; maybe they don’t have a sense of smell as strong as hers, but even then, do they have to wash in perfume before walking out of their chambers every damn day? The mix of smells is practically nauseating.

Raised _away_ from society during her early childhood, and then growing up alone and in the wilderness; when she first arrived in her family’s castle, at the tender age of twenty-five, they used it as an excuse for her behaviour and avoidance of crowds and strong scents, ignorance of their customs, and general lack of manners — that they know of, because she certainly learned them on her mother’s lap since she was very young, not that she cares about putting them in practice for the sake of those stuck up pricks of the noblesse. But, after two centuries since then, she doesn’t have that luxury anymore. Well, it isn’t her fault she has a better connection with her primal instincts, it was survival or death when she learnt them, and as the saying goes, old habits die hard.

Coming out of the shower a few minutes later, she willed her magical fire to the surface and dried herself in seconds as her skin became smouldering hot for a short moment, making steam raise all around her as she stepped on the bathrobe one of the maids offered once she wasn’t dripping wet anymore.

She walked back into her bedroom and, as usual, a dress in the family colours of red and gold waited on her made-up bed. She eyed it from the corner of her eyes and ignored it completely, earning another disproving stare from her head-maid. The woman was chosen by her step-mother to serve her after Rose arrived at the castle, and she’s as old and equally stuck to the old-ways of property and manners as her mother; reason which Rose enjoys messing with the women so much. Not that she dislikes her second mother or the maid, they just aren’t close... and Rose enjoys getting a rise out of them when she can.

Walking into her closet, she chooses a set of tight black leather pants, black high heeled boots with fur trim in expectation of the low temperatures she’ll face in Zephyr’s homeland, and a silk red blouse that will most certainly make her maid bristle with its low cut neckline, but she likes.

She already packed everything else she’ll need for her stay in the cold lands of Zéphyrine’s family the previous afternoon, so she only needed to be sure her feet wouldn’t freeze for walking on snow once they arrive and go out. She may be a fire inclined vampire, but she’s had problems circulating magicka on her feet since forever and doesn’t feel like suffering cold toes for the next month or so.

Walking out of the bedroom and into her sitting room, she finds Zéphyr in a couch near the double doors leading to her library and personal office. He’s reading a book from the human dimension, some kind of novel that she saw before but hardly recognises.

“Did you get that from _my_ library?” She asked with curiosity, sitting on the armrest next to him; it doesn’t look like something she’s bough, so she doubts it.

“I think your sister forgot this in your room and one of the maids stashed it in-between your stuff,” Zéphyrine raised his face showing his sneer. “You’d never buy such garbage, I’m sure.”

Rose winced, “Please tell me it’s not another silly romance novel.”

“It is,” he sighed. “But worse than usual.” He lets the black book on the coffee table and stands, extending his arm in invitation, which she takes with only an amused and fond eye-roll at him for the trouble.

“No, bring it along,” she said, levitating the book to his hands once more with a simple motion of a finger. “I’m sure we’ll cross paths with her on the way to the elevators,” she explained as they walked out of her wing of the castle.

“It’s not yours then?” Zéphyr asked playfully.

She took a look at the cover, noticing the pale hands holding a contrastingly red apple, and realized which book he has been reading. Oh, dear. “Most certainly not,” she said sneering at the offending piece of literature and turning a glare at him.

They walked along the corridors of Hinoarashi Shiro, the long corridors full of light illuminating them as they passed windows, and the warm air carrying pink petals from the cherry trees in bloom outside. It took them just a minute to reach the ground floor at top speed, coming to the congregation of family and guests alike, inundating the place down there.

“ _Ohayou, otou-san, oka-san_ 5,” she greeted her parents, who were nearest the door of the ballroom full of tables for breakfast this early in the morning, with a small bow. Her friend bowed at them respectfully too, but didn’t accompany her once inside as he had other things to do.

“ _Musume_ 6,” her father said while her step-mother nodded back, “ _Anata wa watashitachi o hanaremasu ka?_ 7”

“ _Hai, otou-san_.8 I’m looking for Kiyomi first though, she forgot a book in my rooms, again.” And at her eye-roll, her father smiled softly and signalled to her sister sitting nearby.

Her little sister was by the windows, tea in front of her on the table, probably cold and forgotten a long time ago, and a book open in front of her as usual. After saying goodbye to her parents and greeting some other important guests on the way, Rose sat next to her sister and startled her, interrupting her concentration by pushing the black book on top of the one open in her hands.

“ _Nani? Oh... onee-sama, ohayou_ 9,” Kiyomi said grabbing the book being handed to her with surprise. “Did I forgot it at your place again? Thank you.”

“Good morning, and you’re welcome. Remember not to make a mess of my library while I’m gone, please.”

Kiyomi laughed softly, “Of course, sister. Have a nice journey,” she nodded as Rose stood and left her back to her business with a soft pat on her shoulder.

Out of all of her step-siblings, Rose likes Kiyomi and Kannazuki the best, as they keep out of politics and petty sibling rivalry for their rightful claim to the Kasai throne, unlike the other four, who are a pain in the best of days.

Rose walked back to the entrance, waiting for Zéphyrine who appeared not too long after with his cousins in tow, who are returning with them to their family’s property. The young twins are a little over thirty, but their mother is very overprotective of them and doesn’t like the idea of them trying to handle the transportation by themselves, tasking Zéphyrine with driving them every time they want to leave for one of the other residencies of one of the thirteen families.

“Rose!” They greeted her with smiles and hugs.

“Are we going back then? I’m starving,” Jessamond asked, almond eyes twinkling with excitement.

“Stop thinking about food already, will you?” Laurent snorted next to his twin, golden hair falling over his eyes as he threw his upper body back, avoiding the playful punch from his brother with a mocking chuckle. “Didn’t you already stole a piece of bacon from cousin Lon?”

Laughing at the good-humoured banter of the young siblings, the four walked down the stairs and into the third level of the basement, where the ‘elevators’ were guarded by the soldiers, clad head to toe in black armour while standing to attention for any trouble, all around the castle.

While the contraptions are called elevators, they are in all reality teleportation boxes, capable of trans-dimensional teleportation too if they so wished to use them for such a task. The new design was developed when elevators became a common technology used by humans, which is why their techno-mages changed the shape of the previous bubble-like capsules, as it is easier to travel to the human dimension by hitchhiking the place of one of their own contraptions as the capsule takes its place when in use for a short period of time. Not that they need to activate those features right now, as they only need to appear in the free space for the teleporters waiting at Château Blank.

The four walked into the metal box, standing side by side while Zéphyrine introduced the coordinates for the journey to the frozen lands of the east were his family rules, and soon enough the automatic doors closed on them and the electric blue energy of Zéphyrine’s magic started to glow all around the machine.

Rose was resting with her left side against the metal wall when the machine lurched furiously and everyone stumbled, producing many exclamations of surprise as they regained their balance. With a hand against the wall and the other against Zéphyrine’s shoulder, she watched the numbers of the coordinates dim, followed by the lights of the box, and waited with bated breath for them to return while her friend’s face turned to her with a look of worry and fear.

“You don’t think…” but he trailed off in silence when the lights returned. They are vampires though, they don’t really need light to see, even in total darkness. “ _Merde!_ 10” He exclaimed instead, turning a startled wide-eyed look behind Rose, prompting her to also take a look in that direction.

The twins were hugging each other behind them, and looking almost translucent, vanishing in front of their eyes when the lights blinked on and off twice before setting back on. They couldn’t even react as in milliseconds, where the twins were supposed to be, nothing but empty air occupied their place and Rose gasped in surprise.

“Shit!” She mimicked her friend’s previous expression. “Camille is going to have our hides for losing them,” she whispered and her friend nodded next to her.

The teleporter lurched some more, the lights turning off again, and they twisted their heads as one to the red letters of the coordinates, to observe as they changed by themselves in a random pattern for long tense seconds.

“This isn’t good,” Zéphyrine said with a faint voice.

His tone of voice conferred exactly the same dread she felt sitting in her gut. Rose opened her mouth, but she was cut off as the teleporter lurched once more and the coordinates settled in an unknown configuration none of the friends recognized.

The last thing they felt as even those lights disappeared from view, was the sensation of freefalling as the floor ceased to exist under their feet, and no matter how strongly they tried to cling to each other, the strong centrifugal force tore them apart. Forgetting all type of training and self-restraint, Rose fought with all of her strength and magic to try and keep her focus and some kind of grasp on her consciousness, but it was to no avail and moments later she lost to the darkness. Her last thought was of how much she hated trans-dimensional travel, as that could be the only reason for her upset stomach and this entire mess.

* * *

At the same time that Rose and Zéphyrine worried about the twins, the siblings appeared in the middle of the teleporting chamber, in the basement of Château Blank, with an explosion that shook the foundation of the building and alerted all of the security and inhabitants into motion.

_Roi_ 11 Absolon Tempêtes marched into the room two minutes later, a large group of soldiers at his back, and the rest of the worried family, who expected the arrival of guests, stood anxiously by the stairs.

Not three seconds later the king was heard loud and clear by everyone, shouting for healers and declaring the room safe. The family walked into a destroyed room to find the king hugging his unconscious grandchildren on his arms and no sign of the rest of the expected family and guest.

Mere seconds later, in the opposite corner of the lands of the Vampire Kingdom, a similar explosion took place in the basement of Hinoarashi Shiro, startling everyone in a similar fashion.

_Koku-oh_ 12 Daichi Kasai stormed into the basement followed by worried soldiers, who feared getting in his path to ask him to wait for someone to make sure the room was safe. They never witnessed him looking so fearsome before.

A mirror reaction occurred as parents walked into the room and worried for their daughter and guests, while the grandparent was unable to do anything to help, and could only observe as experts dealt with the results of the accident around the destroyed elevator.

In the months to follow, both families would send correspondence through safer methods of communication and share the discoveries about the accident; the teleporter was sabotaged previous to its use, the Prince and Princess are lost in some unknown reality, and there is no way to know which one to try and retrieve them. Their only hope is to wait, and if they are lucky, they’ll return to them given time.

In the meantime, the techno-mages can only work and try to fix the weakness of the teleporters nobody ever discovered existed before.

* * *

**Coming next...**

"Are you-are you a Daedra?”

Rose cocked her head, confused. None of those things meant anything to her: Skyrim, Tamriel, Nirn, Daedra? Then again, she doesn’t know all of the lands in the human world as it is quite big; not as big as the lands of the Demon World, but, still. A thunderous crash reverberates in the distance at the same time that a third roar sounds in the skies, closer, menacingly.

_What is that?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Chérie: My dear. French.  
> 2 La colère de ma petite soeur: The ire of my little sister. French.  
> 3 Mes excuses: My apologies. French.  
> 4 Pour le petit déjeuner: For breakfast. French.  
> 5 Ohayou, otou-san, oka-san: Good morning, father, mother. Japanese.  
> 6 Musume: Daughter. Japanese.  
> 7 Anata wa watashitachi o hanaremasu ka?: Are you leaving us, then? Japanese.  
> 8 Hai, otou-san: Yes, father. Japanese.  
> 9 Nani? Oh, onee-sama, ohayou: What? Oh, sister, good morning. Japanese.  
> 10 Merde!: Shit! French.  
> 11 Roi: King. French.  
> 12 Koku-oh: King. Japanese.
> 
> Any mistake is google's fault...


	2. To unknown lands

###### Beware, accidents and crashlanding can happen at anytime

A monumental crash like thunder woke Rose as she returned to the land of the living. Quite literally, and quite worryingly, as she was still freefalling — but this time not in the black void she found herself at just a moment ago.

Clouds flew pass her with tremendous speed and a thin layer of moisture formed on her skin, only to be washed away by the air hitting her as she fell. She turned with difficulty, causing her body to spin aimlessly for a few seconds until she righted her path, and when she noticed the ground growing closer under her, she had a moment where panic filled her mind before she actually reacted and started gathering magic around her body, to fight the speed at which she closed in with the dirt underneath.

It was a fight against her own limits, trying to use magic to control the currents of air and slow down her descent, but she wasn’t a child anymore, and even with the little amount of magic that coursed along her body, it was more than enough to efficiently slow her down to a speed that wouldn’t turn her body into a messy past as she landed in the middle of the small gathering of people she could witness from the air as they grew nearer.

Mere metres from a painful and mortally dangerous landing, she released the magic and a strong gush of air made her float where she was for a short second, until inertia tugged on her once more. But, at only a dozen or so metres from the floor, the crash was of no consequence, and she just bent her knees slightly to soften the impact on her articulations; the smallest of the clouds of dust rising in her wake when her feet touched the earth.

Rubbing her temples, Rose took a look at her surroundings and cursed, “For the blood of my ancestors... Where in the seven blazing levels of hell am I now?”

As if a spell was broken, all the soldiers shrugged off their disbelief and turned as one in her direction, weapons out and ready. In answer, Rose raised her arms in the universal sign of ‘I mean no harm,’ an eyebrow shooting up in her hairline. “Calm down guys. I assure you, I’m as surprised as the lot of you with the turn of events, but there is no need for violence. That’ll only end badly,” _for you_ , she thought but left unspoken.

The bunch of soldiers in red were dressed with some kind of armour that resembled the old Greek humans of a couple of centuries ago, while the others in blue, with their horned helmets and whatnot, made her think strongly of the stories about Vikings she liked to hear her mother read to her when she was a child. A soldier in red, with his armour clearly distinguishing him above the rest, raised a hand in front of a woman trying to advance and stopped her, turning a glacial stare at Rose. She almost smiled at the human, he looked almost cute trying to intimidate her.

“Who are you, stranger. And how is that you fell from the sky… unharmed?”

Ah, of course. Where are her manners? They are humans, but that is no reason to be impolite. “Greetings, my name is Hellebore Rose Black and, well, I had a little accident with my means of transport and ended up reappearing in your skies. Of course, I used magic to slow my speed. May I ask, where am I currently?”

“This is the province of Skyrim,” the man responded with a suspicious glance over. “You will wait on the sidelines, while the prisoners are executed for their crimes, but you will not leave. And if you try, you will be apprehended, Miss Black.”

“Sure,” she shrugged, not wanting to get in problems so soon. Besides, it’s been ages since she’s last witnessed an execution. Fun times! She took a look around, and taking a few steps closer — but not too much — to one archer nearby, she whispered a few questions at him. “Hey there, buddy. Do you mind being more specific? Because I have no clue what your boss there meant by Skyrim. I’m kinda not from around here?”

The man was wary, but he answered her query nonetheless — if a bit stiltedly. “Skyrim is a province of the Empire, in the northernmost corner of Tamriel.”

“And Tamriel is where exactly?”

The soldier turned a perplexed look at her, then took stock of her entire appearance and shuddered, for some reason looking even more apprehensive than before. By the chopping block, the first head rolled, immediately the commentary started, and in the distance a mighty roar sounded, earning more than a few gasps from all the people around the gathering.

“Tamriel is in Nirn, but I doubt you’ll know about it. You don’t look…from around here. Are you-are you a Daedra?”

Rose cocked her head, confused. None of those things meant anything to her: Skyrim, Tamriel, Nirn, Daedra? Then again, she doesn’t know all of the lands in the Human World as it is quite big; not as big as the lands of the Demon World, but, still. A thunderous crash reverberated in the distance, at the same time that a third roar sounded in the skies, closer, menacingly.

“Which continent is Nirn located at? Is it anywhere close to Europe, or mayb-”

As the axe raised in the air, screams from the scouts in the towers raised the alarm, and she let her mouth hang open in shock; a big black something grew closer to their position in the horizon. With a numb sound, the axe fell for the second time when the ginormous black thing landed on the tower in the middle of town.

If she wasn’t mistaken, that was a dragon.

If she wasn’t mistaken, there aren't any dragons in Earth anymore; they were all hunted down by Demons thousands of years ago... or so mother taught her during the history lessons.

If she wasn’t mistaken, she wasn’t in Kansas anymore… and damn but wasn’t that though distressing.

From the moment her eyes landed on the black monster, to the moment it started _attacking_ , mere seconds passed by, and she couldn’t understand what she did to become the recipient of so much bad luck. Did she anger the embodiment of Luck somehow? She doesn’t remember crossing paths with them, or anyone else worthy of mention lately, but, if this is their doing, they’re going to have _words_ when she’s back home.

If this is a result of something someone else did though, she’s less than amused and will seek retribution. She’s tired of the insufferable assassination plots lately, because, teleporters don’t break down just like that, and another one of those is the most obvious deduction at the moment.

She moved out of the way of another meteorite in flames threatening to fall on her head and rushed before the falling tree cutting her path. To say that everything was complete chaos was probably putting it mildly. Many humans rushed around like headless chicken, scared and probably about to cause their own demise in their panic, while soldiers in red dutifully tried to fight the flying menace, and those in blue took the chance to take their binds off and run from a certain death.

As she contemplated the scene in front of her with no little curiosity, a soldier coerced a kid to leave his dying parent and save himself from the dragon landing in their previous position immediately after.

As she studied the dragon — ‘wyrm’ her mind corrected as a closer inspection revealed no frontal legs, but just wings supporting it — the beast took a deep breath and released a scorching burst of flames in her general direction. The fire though, unlike anything she confronted before, didn’t answer to her command to stop, and with a gasp of surprise, she raised a shield between her and the enemy’s attack before it reached her, bitting back on a pained moan that wanted to come out at forcing more magic to manifest from her almost depleted reserves. She didn’t feel like experiencing the effects of being burnt, that’d be so shameful since she’s over two hundred years old and a fire elemental. Her pride along would be hit hard if she allowed such a disgrace to take place, but, at this rate, she’ll experience the equally annoying effects of magicka burnt soon enough.

With surprising strength, the fire ate at the corners of her shield and she had to put more strength than expected to be able to withstand the blow, nonetheless, she held strong against the attack. Moments later, the wyrm came into her view again, and as it raised to the sky once more, she could almost swear the creature expressed some type of emotion; surprise maybe?

As her hand lowered, the glimmer of her shield disappeared, and the soldier from before run to her side, asking many questions and annoying her as she regained her breath and her headache turned into a migraine. Stalking off and away from the man, she wandered into the exact same direction where the wyrm landed next. She avoided its sight, and when it flew off she left the building and corpses on fire, arriving in a small open space where many soldiers congregated, with mages throwing magical attacks at the flying enemy as the wyrm didn’t make lengthy stops between one attack and the next. Behind them, some type of yellow-skinned people she never saw before, attacked with lightning and made their best effort to leave unnoticed.

The same soldier from before appeared behind her just a couple of seconds later, and the higher-ranking soldier that ordered her to stay in the beginning, also commanded them to retire to the keep, wherever that is. Shrugging, she followed the man called Hadvar. She may be in a different universe by all apparencies, but it is always better to work along with the law of wherever she finds herself at, no reason to become a wanted figure just yet unless they start prodding or trying to hold her captive. If possible, she’s not repeating that experience, she thinks with a slight shiver at remembering what happened when her boat was castaway during a storm and she spent months at Terre de Loup. Thrice cursed mutts.

As they walked away from the scene, the wyrm made a dive an took a soldier in its paws, letting him fall from high on and the body landing on the arch to her left, causing it to collapse just as a soldier in blue rushed underneath, coming face to face with Hadvar and starting a pissing match contest with him, when they were meant to hurry into the safety of the building nearby.

The wyrm dived again as they shouted to each other, the strong flapping of its wings keeping the wyrm in the air a good distance away, but trowing the two men at her feet anyway, and then the creature tried to attack her with fire for the second time. Rolling her eyes and taking three steps ahead to make sure the humans survived the experience, she gritted her teeth and raised another shield, protecting all of them from the blazing inferno the wyrm was breathing at them.

How could the fire be so hot and still remain a fiery red? She wondered for those seconds the stream continued to eat at the edge of her protection. Of course, the creature didn’t have an answer for her.

“Are we done here then?” She asked turning around to the men at her back when the beast was gone. With pale faces, both nodded and walked in silence inside the nearby building, forgetting about their enmity for the time being.

Inside the building, it wasn’t as safe as Rose expected. Firstly, they found a group of soldiers in blue, who took to seeing one of their own with Hadar in the wrong light and attacked without letting them put a word in for their defence, or the other guy’s for that matter. There were more soldiers in the halls, barracks, kitchen, and even the torture room. If Ralof, the guy in blue, sneered some more, he may just be stuck like that for life she though with a low snicker as they avoided the old man discussing with Hadvar about ‘siding with the enemy,’ no matter what the young auburn-haired man told him.

Surprisingly, a wall at the end of the torture chamber was broken down and they walked out of the building and into some kind of cavern where a small stream ran along with their path, coming to some type of dilapidated and old rustic constructions here and there, filled with more blue soldiers, or Stormcloaks, as Ralof called them. She smelled something fishy going on, after all, there is no way that that number of people equalled the dozen or so she saw waiting to lose their heads earlier. But, as they came into a part of the cave covered in cobwebs, she forgot all about her still forming conspiracy theories and could only stare in horrified fascination as Hadvar and Ralof took over the fight against some spiders. Very hairy and very big spiders that made her skin crawl.

She shot the gross things some fireballs from a safe distance and ignored the snickers her face, scrunched in disgust, earned from the men during the fight. After killing the nightmare-inducing arachnids, and a single bear napping at the end of the cave, it was hours later when the three finally walked out of the cave they used to escape the ruined village, just as the wyrm flew over their heads and far into the distance.

Behind in the village, smoke raised in tall columns above it, all of it but smoulders and dead bodies now.

As there seemed to be no more danger ahead, she raised the flimsy sword she took from the keep in the beginning and burned the remaining bear blood from it, earning the attention of the two soldiers accompanying her. As young as they are, they showed good skills and didn’t become a burden during their escape from the keep, so she was amenable to their company for now. Better to have guides for a while, until she learns about these strange lands she find herself at and, maybe, discovers a way to get back home.

“Looks like he’s gone for good this time,” Hadvar commented looking in the distance at the flying wyrm, also cleaning his weapon on a rag and putting it aside. “Closest town from here is Riverwood. Fortunately, my uncle's the blacksmith there, I'm sure he'll help us out. We can make our way to Solitude from there, I just hope General Tullius and the rest were able to get out of these ruins.”

Ralof scoffed at the Imperial the longer he talked, turning aside and starting to walk away at the end, “Talos watch over me, but I can’t stand a second more of your presence, you traitor. I’ll try my luck by myself from here.”

Hadvar shook his head tiredly, “His funeral. Skyrim is full of dangers, Rose, so I hope you don’t have problems with my company for a while longer,” the soldier turned to her with a tentative smile.

“Lead the way,” she answered in kind, “With how little I know of this world, I may as well follow someone who has any idea what he’s doing and where he’s going. I’d hate to cross another of that giant things with too-many legs while I’m alone.”

Hadvar released a short chuckle, “Ah, with how well you managed yourself back there, for a moment I forgot you literally fell from the sky just some hours ago.”

Rose shrugged, “I know how to handle myself in most situations, though, big-ass spiders are not something I’m used to, or want to get used to, any time soon.”

“Do you mind if I ask? I must admit I’m very curious about your origins, my friend.”

Rose shrugged “Sure, ask away.”

“Before anything else, how come you never saw or even heard about frostbite spiders before?”

And so, the two made their way to Riverwood, with Hadvar making questions and also explaining a few things for her. Indeed, in the end, she understood she wasn’t in the Demon Dimension anymore, or Earth’s Dimension, or any other she knew existed. Nirn it seems is a planet surrounded by ‘God’s bodies’ in the world of Mundus, Oblivion, and Aetherius respectively. Hadvar wasn’t the best of scholars and could give her but a simple and mostly lacking explanation, so she’ll have to study the world by herself once she gets a little settled and understands some more about the way this place works.

“The Monomyth is a book I read a long time ago, so forgive me if I can’t explain it correctly, or all of it.” Hadvar excused himself sheepishly. “Nordic culture teach us about Gods we believe in, not the general beliefs of others. Men and Mer have different origins, but the most important of those differences is, as explained by the scholars who wrote the book, that Men were created by the Gods, while Mer can claim descent from them. Even then, every culture recognize Anu and Padomay as the twin forces who started the everything; or Aniel-Sithis, Ak-El, Satak-Akel, Is-Is Not, as referred by other races […]”

Then, after answering lots of questions about herself and the beliefs her people hold, she got some answers from Hadvar about the different races of humans, mer and beast-people that inhabit Tamriel and the man started explaining her about the on-going conflict of Skyrim when he was done. The civil war the Stormcloaks started for religious purposes or something the like, and the Thalmor who are elves that want to…control everything? He wasn't sure, and by the end even her vampiric speedy though process was having problems grasping all of the new facts, so she was happy to notice that just as sunset was bathing everything around then with a twinge of orange, they were arriving to some populated site, and Hadvar was soon after announcing that they were close to Riverwood.

“[…] and so, Jarl Ulfric killed the High King and escaped Solitude, rallying forces after his cause for the last months, until General Tullius got wind of his plans near the Pale-Pass and we laid an ambush. It’s so infuriating though that the interference of that dragon has thwarted all of our hard work. I can tell you I’m still a bit sceptical about its existence after all these years believing them all but extinct-Oh, look, we are arriving at Riverwood […]”

The first visible sign of civilization was a group of hunters making camp at the side of the road and tall stone walls not much further behind them protecting Riverwood. They nodded to them as Hadvar and Rose walked by the hunters and walked into the village — to Rose’s surprise — without being accosted by any type of law enforcement.

“Is this place actually _that_ safe, that no law enforcement is required to patrol the streets?” Rose asked as they walked along the deserted path. Was her imagination or some of these houses seem abandoned? “Or is it just an effect of the civil war?”

Hadvar turned sombre, “Remember how I told you about the White-Gold Concordat?”

“Yes, the Empire signed it to stop the war they were losing.”

“It’s been twenty-seven years since the war,” Hadvar sighed, “I’m sure you’ve noticed the abandoned houses,” he said shaking slightly his head in the direction of said buildings all around them. “The people of Skyrim hasn’t recovered yet, many died fighting the Dominion, but Nords specifically suffered a big hit as a result. We’re a civilization that looks war like an obstacle to tackle or die trying. For us, dying in combat is a great honour and, as a result, the Legion was mostly composed of Nords when the army gave the call to arms as the war effort started. Even then, I heard the Imperial City is just as empty as Skyrim these days. Our population is just starting to recover, and Ulfric goes and starts a Civil war,” he finished, shaking his head.

They walked deeper into the village, with some people here and there making themselves noticed, but for each house showing signs of life, there were two or three in between with apparent abandonment showing as dirt collected all around the living espaces. A couple of minutes later, they came to a stop close to the heat of a forge and the loud booming sound of hammering and shaping metal. A man, tall and with lots of muscles as it seems to be a racial thing for Nords from what she saw of the bunch she met in the last day, stood with his back to them and working on a bench on something.

Hadvar walked closer, startling his uncle with a hand on the man’s shoulder and then they hugged and whispered with heads bent together for a long moment. Alvor turned to her when they were done, watching her appraisingly and curious, and then he straightened and offered a large calloused hand.

“Well met, friend, I’m Alvor, the smith of Riverwood. You saved my nephew’s life, so you will always be welcome in this family. Anything you need, I’m glad to help in any way I can.”

Rose smiled and held the other man’s hand with a shrug, “Don’t think too much of it, it wasn't such a hard job. He's quite talented with a sword.”

Sigrid, the wife, and Dorthe, the daughter, received her with as much warmth as Alvor did, after learning of the adversities they faced on their way to Riverwood from the destroyed settlement. The woman cooked something for them while they got clean, and after eating an early dinner, the little girl sat between them and with all the enthusiasm of a child her age, started pelting them with questions.

But, after having a bottle of mead and discussing the future with his uncle, Hadvar lead her to The Sleeping Giant Inn as the house was modest and lacked much space for them to spend the night.

“Hadvar! Long time no see. Are you on leave from the Legion?” A young woman asked, sitting on the table next to theirs. “And who is your friend? My, your clothes are incredible. You must tell me where you bought those boots!”

Rose, who was now dressed in a simple white cotton long-sleeved shirt, instead of the red silk blouse, to avoid attention, looked down at her black boots with salt-and-pepper trimmed fur with surprise. Was she maybe still overdressed?

“Camilla, is good to see you! Let me introduce you to Hellebore Rose Black, I’m her escort to Solitude,” he said, falling on the explanation they agreed on previously, as Alvor wanted to avoid raising a panic on the people about the dragon or his presence in the village.

“Nice to meet you,” Rose said with a nod at the woman.

“Escort?” Camilla mumbled at Hadvar, “Oh my, you must be a noble then,” she turned to Rose and returned a bow with most of her upper body, that looked quite uncomfortable from her position sitting at the table. “Camilla Valerius, my lady.”

“Camilla, there’s no need-”

“I’m a Princess actually-”

As they talked at the same time, Hadvar turned his head with force to look at her. Rose, more relaxedly, turned her head and raised an eyebrow at him.

“A Princess?!” The woman now said with an undertone of eagerness and nerves.

Rose snorted softly at Hadvar’s startled expression and turned to look back at Camilla with a smile, “Don’t worry. Where I come from, the title is important as long as I’m in the lands where my family rules over. Here, Princes Kasai-Black means little to nothing. You don’t need to treat me any different than you would any other stranger visiting Skyrim.”

After that introduction, Camilla moved to their table and drank alongside them, keeping the conversation flowing with little need from others. The girl was a chatter-box, but nice enough.

* * *

**Coming soon...**

With a grunt, Rose grabbed the hand shaking her and forced it back down on a hard chest... _Wait, what?!_

“I need to get up,” a man voiced with amusement lacing his tone.

Rose opened her eyes wide, but blinked a few times since they stung when the dry and cool air of the room hit them. “Where am I?” She mumbled slowly and looked up at her bed’s companion’s face...


	3. And have fun...

###### There is always time for sightseeing

The next morning Hadvar knocked on her door before the sun was up. She didn’t expect him to be able to wake up so soon after going to sleep the previous night as drunk as Zéphir ever gets, and very late. These Nords certainly know how to handle their alcohol if anything, she admitted with surprise.

As they left the inn, with a breakfast packed by Orgnar for them in their hands, a carriage was waiting already outside.

Hadvar was of the idea of informing the Jarl in Witherun about the situation with the dragon and quickly afterwards continuing for Solitude, so Rose didn’t have to worry about dealing with these land’s nobles, or getting dressed for the occasion.

The journey was shorter to the next city as this time they didn’t need to walk, but still, it took them to wait until past noon to arrive at the stables of Whiterun. It was practically the same distance they travelled the other day, but with the help of transport making it easier. During this time they continued sharing small snippets of information about their respective worlds and Rose grew more interested in Nirn and its quirks. She wondered if the reason she couldn’t control fire as easily as before is because of the way the ‘creation’ of this world took place. They way Hadvar explained things to her, Gods had _and_ _still have_ a lot of influence in everything, even though some of their influence isn’t obvious.

Stein, the driver, waved them away after they took off for Witherun and he promised to be ready for them the next day. While Hadvar was hopeful, Rose knew better; hoping to get the attention of the ruler of the city already so late in the day was daft in her opinion, so she talked to the man to be prepared to leave early the next morning, _if_ they were lucky enough to be ready to depart by then.

The city was quite big, with buildings constructed in a very medieval look that humans stopped using decades ago back in her world. At least, unlike what she remembers of descriptions about big settlements from the human world some friend regaled her with, this place doesn’t reek as bad as she was expecting. She admired the canals keeping the place clean with no little surprise and relief.

As it was getting late, the city’s inhabitants were too busy taking care of their daily tasks to paid them any attention, but for the odd soldiers patrolling around, and when they arrived at the inn, it was moderately filled already with people. Many heads turned in their direction when Rose and Hadvar closed the door, but the man simply walked up to the wench nearby and asked for rooms. The woman had a dark skin tone Rose hadn’t cross yet, but recognised from Hadvar’s stories, a Redguard if memory serves her.

The woman led them to the back and then upstairs, to a long hall with doors, and then into a bedroom with a single but big bed inside.

“This is our last room. If you still want it, is yours,” she said with an air of tiredness.

The room was big, with tasteful decorations and a large tub on one side, also a balcony in the back, with a table for two and view of the entrance. Very pretty... and apparently as equally expensive.

“I can’t possibly pay for this,” Hadvar exclaimed rubbing his face.

“I’m sorry, but this week has been very busy, we don’t have more free space,” the woman explained.

“Is it really that much?” Rose asked turning to look at Hadvar.

“Ten silvers for the night, usually. But, this room...” he shook his head with a grunt.

“One gold a night,” the woman announced and Hadvar whined painfully.

Rose, who didn’t have much of an idea of the prices of things or the way coin was handled, had no reaction to the price. A single gold coin didn’t seem much for her so, taking a peek inside her luggage, she grabbed an amber gem from it and brought it out; the jasper gleamed under the light of the torches and candles being lighted, taking away the woman's breath. The size of it was barely that of Rose’s pinky fingernail, but for the woman’s reaction, that means a lot for her.

“Would this be useful?” She asked handing the gem to a stunned Hadvar.

“This... this...” He cleared his throat, still wide-eyed as he turned to the wench, “Can you go ask Hulda if it is okay for her if we pay with this?” The woman took a look at it and hurried off, and when she was gone Hadvar glanced pointedly at Rose.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Rose giggled behind her hand, taking a seat on the end of the bed and rolling her neck with a sigh. “I’m always ready for any sort of necessity,” she said once her neck stopped popping to her satisfaction.

“Right...” he huffed a laugh, “I kinda forgot you said you’re a _Princess_...”

“I should be a Queen, actually,” Rose mumbled softly, going unheard by her companion as she continued thanking her uncle for taking the burden off her shoulders in her head. “So, we are sharing the bed, it seems,” she said mischievously a moment later and smirked at Hadvar, “I should warn you, I’m a hugger.”

He only laughed goodheartedly back at her, “I don’t think I’ll complain about that.”

Saadia, the wench, returned with some linens for the bed sometime later, taking the jasper when she left. Hulda was happy to receive the payment and informed them through the woman, that they’d get dinner and breakfast for free with it.

So, reassured that the room was already paid for, Hadvar and Rose left their things — or Hadvar did anyway as Rose had everything handy inside her magical pocket space — and left the building. While Hadvar made his way to the stairs at the end of the market hall, leading up to the wealthier residential cluster of the city, and then even further higher to reach the Jarl’s home, otherwise called Dragonsreach; Rose was planning on spending a couple of hours looking around before the stalls closed for the day.

Fruit, vegetables, metals, weapons, armour, fashion accessories, linen and cloth, meat, alchemical ingredients and potions, books, and much more, was exposed in the stalls lining the streets of Whiterun. The armament, clothing, and accessories looked way more rustic than what she’s used to, so she didn’t pay them any mind; she bought some fruit, dried meat, cheese, and bread though, to have something to eat the next day if they can return to the road as early as Hadvar hopes — and after she visited Belethor’s shop to exchange some of the gems she had for the local coin.

Also, at Belethor’s, she bought a map of Skyrim alongside a less detailed one from all of Nirn, and a bunch of books that the merchant recommended her, to learn a bit about the customs and history of the different races that she’ll cross paths within Tamriel. She hoped that between both, she’d get acclimated to these unfamiliar lands and possibly start to search for a way to return home, thinking that as they have magic, someone should be able to tell her if they have or know of ways to travel to other worlds.

And finally, after asking around for the best alchemist, she went to Arcadia’s shop. The woman was very helpful after she explained her circumstances and sold her an odd arrangement of ingredients so she could start learning about them. After crossing those big spiders with Hardvar and Ralof, she knew the flora and fauna of the lands still had much to throw at her, and good thing she’s of the mind to be ready for anything all the time, she doesn’t want to think about seeing a _skeever_ for the first time, yuck!

Later, when she was back at the inn, Hadvar arrived with a tired sigh an hour or so later and waved before going upstairs, returning quickly and anxious about the free meal after a long day with just the early breakfast Orgnar prepared for them. Meanwhile, Rose decided to take a bath and clean up; there is not much to say about intimacy in the bedroom they were given, the bed and the bathtub are pretty close and nothing separates them in the middle, not that she’s one to care much about her modesty, but she doesn’t want to make the man uncomfortable.

While she was cleaning up, she thought about going back down for a different meal. True, she already ate the rabbit stew Hulda offered, but it’s been almost a week since she had any blood and she was craving it already. While she can eat ‘normal’ food to satisfy her for a few days, she’s still a vampire and needs blood to keep up to shape at least once every two or three weeks, more than that is pushing it and a little painful without needing to endure such thing. So, when the soldier returned, she dressed while snickering at his embarrassment as he caught her putting on her cotton white shirt, and left the man to his own devices, accepting and drinking a tankard of brandy that Saadia offered downstairs while inspecting the patrons sitting around.

After midnight, with the crowd barely standing on their feet after one too many drinks, she cosied up to a young dark-haired elf and left the tavern, fumbling around with the man until they were hiding in a dark little corner, where she got a good taste of him. With how drunk he was and the endorphins her bite flushed his body with, the guy will be a little weak for the next two days but oh so happy, and better yet, he won’t remember a thing thanks to a little bit of illusion magic that will have him believe they had a ‘quickie’ in the dark before each left their own way.

When Rose returned to the room, Hadvar was already deeply asleep. She grabbed a book from a cupboard and started reading, keeping herself occupied until she got sleepy. The book was named ‘The Black Arrow’ and was a little confusing since she knows next to nothing about this world, like, where in the blazes are the places mentioned? But she plucked the map she bought earlier from Belethor out of her pocket space and soon found where Valenwood is located. The book was engaging and interesting, with an end that raised a little laugh out of her during the second volume, so she jumped quickly into the next option available.

The next one was named ‘Racial Phylogeny’ and, curious, she grabbed it and started reading it; the study of different physiologies and the possibility of producing offsprings by mixing races, while interesting, wasn’t something she felt like reading, so she put it back in place and grabbed something different. By chance, she grabbed a book Hadvar mentioned to her when they met. ‘The Monomyth’ was what finally drove her to bed with the dry _history_ of the Gods of this world. You can always count on theology writings driving you to sleep, Rose thought lazily as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

“...ake up.”

“Rose...”

With a grunt, Rose grabbed the hand shaking her and forced it back down on a hard chest... _Wait, what?!_

“I need to get up,” a man voiced with amusement lacing his tone.

Rose opened her eyes wide, but blinked a few times since they stung when the dry and cool air of the room hit them. “Where am I?” She mumbled slowly and looked up at her bed’s companion’s face. Hadvar greeted her with a smile and she huffed, “Oh, it’s you...”

“Where you expecting anyone else?” He asked, sitting up as she rolled away, taking the covers with her. “Rose, are you naked?”

She hummed, letting her eyes blink close, and sighed while nuzzling the pillow to her comfort. “I always sleep naked,” she said once she was comfortable once more.

Hadvar laughed a little and stood up. “I’m going out to the Jarl’s place again. Do you still want to see the training courtyard?”

Right, the courtyard where the soldiers usually train; that was something they talked about yesterday, while they were stuck in the carriage. She mentioned her morning ritual **—** that she’s been forgoing since the day she accidentally arrived in this world **—** and he mentioned the place, to give her something to do while Hadvar spoke with the Jarl.

Rose sat up and stretched, small popping sounds coming off her back. Then she dressed for the day and the two went down to get some breakfast, or just tea in her case. So early in the morning, the room was almost deserted except for a woman in armor at the back of the room and two elves of dark skin by the kitchen doors. Dunmer, she thinks she remembers Hadvar said they are called. The one from last night wasn't anywhere nearby luckily enough...

“Hey, Hulda!” Hadvar called loudly as he walked up to the counter where the woman sat.

Rose ignored the overly happy man and sat on a table close to the fire, letting her chin rest on a closed fist and closing her eyes, merely _feeling_ the warmth coming off of the burning coals. She isn’t much of a morning person... unlike some people, she thought slightly annoyed as Hadvar sat in front of her a moment later with a happy demeanour and a bowl of porridge, with crushed dried nuts and wild berries on top. Watching it, she almost regretted not asking for one of her own.

“Stop smiling so much,” she told him grouchily, “You remind me way too much of my friend, he’s just as much of a morning person. I hate you both.”

Hadvar, who didn’t understand why she was being so cranky until then, laughed at her, “He sounds like a nice guy.”

Rose snorted with fondness, “He’s the best.”

Hadvar ate in silence as she was still half asleep and he noticed, and then they walked up a monstrous amount of stairs to reach the Jarl’s residence. The place was... something, but she wasn’t truly in the disposition to appreciate the view at the moment.

“Go down this hall and you will reach the courtyard in a moment,” Hadvar laughed through the nose as he redirected her by the shoulders. “I’ll catch up with you when I’m done here.”

“Okay...” Rose half-whispered and continued walking lazily, while in the back Hadvar looked after her with an amused smile.

As the courtyard was big but full of training soldiers, Rose didn’t have the space to run a few laps around and decided to follow the lead of the nearby instructor as she felt too lazy to do anything else at the moment. She grabbed a practice wooden sword, lined next to a tall blond with a thick beard tied down in an impressive arrangement of braids, and started swinging the wood like it was instructed. A few minutes of this, with the cold air cooling her ears and _finally_ waking her up fully, they were told to pair up and practice the two movements the instructor taught them in a sparring match. Everyone walked around and settled in a circle, with the instructor calling two’s to the middle for a match.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” the blond from earlier mentioned, standing next to her against the stone wall.

“I’m not from around here,” Rose answered shortly and yawned.

“I’d say so,” the man commented as his eyes travelled up to her ears first, where the pointy ends came out behind her loose ink-black hair, and then they lowered to the rest of her body. “I’ve never seen or heard of an elf of your colouring before. What are you?”

“Not an elf,” she said rolling her eyes.

In the middle of the yard a ginger man cried, falling on his back to the floor after his opponent tackled him like a bull, Rose winced as she heard the telltale sound of a broken rib. As the instructor chastised the standing blue-eyed man, two others dragged the ginger away to the ‘temple’ to be healed. _What do temples have to do with healing? This world is so odd_ , she thought as she followed the three leaving men with her eyes.

“If you aren’t an elf, then what-”

“Ljof! If you have the time to chat a pretty face, then I’m not doing a good enough work. Bring your ass in here!”

With a start, the blond grabbed the wooden sword and walked up to the instructor.

“You too, red eyes,” he said in her direction, and when she raised a finger behind her chin he nodded. “Are you looking to join us? I’ve never seen you before...”

“My friend, Hardvar from Riverwood, is here to speak with the Jarl, or the mage, I don’t know. Thing is, I didn’t have anything better to do so I came to get some training in,” Rose shrugged dismissing the inquisitive glare of the bald man.

“How good are you?”

“Good enough.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he nodded at Ljof and walked away. “No maiming or killing, remember, this is practice!” The man shouted before giving the go-ahead.

Ljof turned around, raising his practice sword in front of him and smiling at her, “Don’t worry doll, I won’t hurt you much,” and he had the gall to wink at her.

Rose felt like kicking him in the nuts, the asshole. She just rolled her eyes, widened her stance, and relaxed her hold on the wood; not too tight, but not too loose eighter, just the proper grip. “Pity,” she answered at the smiling fool with a poker face, acting like she wasn’t at all bothered by his sexist words, “I like a little pain.”

The blond frowned, glaring at her before rushing forward, his footwork sloppy, his nostrils flaring as his mood affected him and he breathed deeply and angrily. Rose sidestepped, turned around smoothly, and touched his midriff with the wood all in a single second. He exclaimed in pain as he got hit himself and stumbled, losing his balance after his own attack failed. He turned around, mumbling a surprised ‘what’ under his breath and confronted her again, rushing into another attack.

He started with an upward hit from left to right that Rose parried bending slightly and without moving her feet from her place, then a horizontal hit to the left that he aimed to her shoulder and she dodged by lowering her torso backwards, and as he tried to hit her stomach with a charged upwards hit she stabbed the sword on the dirt and continued bending her body all the way backwards, resting all of her weight on her palm over the hilt of the sword, with her body suspended in the air for a second before finishing the movement by lowering her feet back to the floor just as Ljof tried to hit them.

He continued attacking and she used the palm of her hands to redirect the flat surface of the practice sword away and dodging his attacks until she was back to where they started. Quickly drawing her weapon from the dirt, she raised it just in time to stop a hit from the left with her back still facing him; all of her left arm trembled as the impact of the hit landed, first on the wood, and then travelled down her bones.

As she tried to walk away, he kicked her, hurting his feet more than he did the back of her legs, she’s after all a vampire, and a human can’t begin to dream in matching her physical strength. She only released a soft huff for his efforts and turned around, avoiding the tip of the wooden sword to her stomach by millimetres, and parrying his next blow to the left again. By this time, the man was fuming, red in the face, and sweating profusely.

“Stop playing around,” he growled, spit flying around.

“But,” Rose started with a soft tone, “I’m still waiting for you to hurt me,” and she smirked evilly when he yelled in a mad rage, attacking blinded by anger.

After another minute of amusing herself and playing around with the blond, she used a fencing technique to disarm him. Then, she closed off their space and taking impulse grabbed his right arm, raised her legs over his head, and turned her upper body. They fell to the floor with a silent audience looking with gaping mouths as Ljof was chocked with her tights wound tightly around his neck. A moment later of trying to get himself free without any luck, he yielded, hitting the floor with an open palm in desperation.

She released the hold and quickly stood up, signing with satisfaction as Ljof was left gasping for air at her feet. Ah, she so loves that flying scissor legs takedown...

“That was fun, let’s do it again sometime,” she winked at the man as she walked away, “I promise I won’t hurt you much.”

Ljof surprised her by laughing and she smiled, pleased and thinking that maybe he wasn’t a complete dick.

“Good work girl,” the bald instructor nodded his head with a contented smile, “What do you call that... thing you did there?”

“It’s a movement from a type of martial art called Judo. My dad’s family is big on specializing in at least one of them before you turn fifty. I chose that one.”

“There are more?” The instructor asked wide-eyed. “I’ve never seen anything the like.”

“Ah, well...” Rose laughed and scratched his neck, “I’m not from around here...”

“Ah, that must be it,” he nodded and extended his hand in a greeting, “I’m Hrongar, by the way.” She gave him her hand, but unlike the handshake she expected, he grabbed her forearm and shook it with a strong grip. “If you’re around, you’re welcome to join us in training. That movement looked quite impressive, this bunch could use a good spar or two against you.”

“Thank you,” she said giving him a smile. “I’m Rose Black.”

* * *

**Coming soon...**

“Are they always like this?” Rose asked the Dunmer while on their way to the tower, outside, on the plains of Whiterun.

Irileth took a look backwards, snorted, and rolled her eyes. “Nords,” she said as if that was all Rose needed to know to understand.

Maybe it was.


	4. A short set-back

###### Colliding with a lizard sunbathing in the middle of the route

Hadvar arrived at the training courtyard to find her some hours later and he wasn’t in the best of moods. The Jarl apparently asked him to help his court mage after making him wait for hours, and the man was researching the reappearance of the dragons. Since Hadvar is quite diligent and wasn’t given a timeline to return to Solitude, he accepted the task. But the thing is, he needs to return all the way back to Riverwood to complete this!

Rose could only laugh at him for it. So, in the end, Hadvar went back to the stables and returned to his hometown that same day, after lunch. She offered to go along, but since he was supposed to care for her, not the other way around — his words not hers, he said she should rest and enjoy the visit to Whiterun, which she didn’t mind at all.

She kept busy training, reading her books, and visiting the temple, learning from Danica, a priestess of Kynareth, why people go to her for healing; the same reason which she found Andurs, the priest of Arkay, down in the Hall of the Dead. She also met Heimskr, whom she felt, after only one minute of hearing the man vociferate craziness, the strong urge to hung him somewhere... from his vocal cords.

After that disturbing urge, she thought it’d be preferable to keep her distance from the shrine of Talos and visited Jorvaskr, where she was welcomed and sat to chat with the Harbinger for a long afternoon, learning about Ysgramor, the five-hundred companions, and what the Companions do these days while they sat on the backyard, watching some members train.

During the afternoon of the third day, Rose was talking with Adrianne about her work on the forge when Hadvar arrived at the gates of the city. She said her goodbyes to the smith and walked up to the limping man.

“You look terrible,” she commented, and without prompt grabbed his arm, placing it over her neck as she helped him reach the inn, ignoring the strong smell of blood coming off him.

“I feel terrible,” Hadvar replied with a soft voice, restrained with pain. “I should go to the temple, not the inn...”

“Shush you,” Rose said ignoring him. “Danica is busy enough. I can take care of any injury you have just as well as she would, I bet.”

They walked into the Bannered Mare to the cry of worry from Hulda, “My word, Hadvar! What happened? Saadia! Get some water boiling and clean linens!” She shouted as she started following behind them up the stairs. “Ysolda watch the counter, please!”

Rose helped the man rest on the bed and straightened, receiving the linens and alcohol from the Redguard, while Hulda watched from the door with a hand covering her mouth. Quickly, Rose divested Hadvar of his Imperial armour and started cleaning a deep gash to his left side.

“I thought you said you had potions for this kind of stuff?” She commented as she tore a piece of cloth and accepted the hot water from Saadia, cleaning Hadvar’s wounds of the flowing blood and crust forming over the infected wound, then imbibed another piece of cloth with the offered antiseptic and started treating him.

Hadvar laughed and then chocked when she put pressure on the wound with the rag covered in alcohol. “I had three, but they weren’t enough to face eight bandits, four skeevers, a queen frostbite spider, and more draugr than I care to remember... auch! Woman, careful with that!”

“Don’t be such a cry-baby,” Rose snorted, slapping a hand away when he tried to make her stop applying pressure to the wound. “This has already become infected, I need to get the pus out before healing you.”

“Shouldn’t you take him to the temple?” Hulda spoke after Hadvar complained for the third time and Rose rolled her eyes for the equal amount of times.

“No, he’s going to be okay in a mo...” Rose put the rag covered in blood away, washing her hands with soap on another bowl with fresh clean water and sat back down next to the bed raising her hands over the wound and channelling her magic.

Red fire came to life over her hands for a second, causing the women in the room to gasp in surprise, but Rose simply continued focusing as healing is a difficult art for the more damage-dealer inclined vampires like her. Soon enough the fire turned green though and she touched softly over Hadvar’s wound. The man was clearly sceptical and nervous, but when the fire didn’t burn, but actually started to make him feel better, he relaxed against the sheets and laid back bonelessly, releasing a relieved sigh as the pain was slowly but surely leaving him.

“That feels good,” he mumbled, blinked, and a handful of minutes later he started snoring as he fell asleep.

When Rose finished, she gave her thanks for the assistance to Saadia while the women cleaned the room, leaving when she was done. Rose just sat back in a chair when she was alone with the sleeping human, tired but with a book to keep her busy until the soldier woke up next.

Hours later, with a potion of minor healing for the remaining soreness, Hadvar stubbornly got up and delivered the stone tablet the court mage asked for, coming down not even an hour after, agitated and looking worried.

A dragon attacked the watchtower and the Jarl asked for his assistance to defeat it... and Rose wanted to facepalm but merely sighed, grabbing the bag with potions she bough from Arcadia while Hadvar was gone, and followed the man to the rest of the fighters congregating at the doors, to go and confront the beast. The man must be a masochist for accepting to do this when he couldn't even walk properly when he arrived at the city gates earlier.

At the doors, the Nords looked so excited at the prospect of such an ‘honourable’ battle that Rose was stumped for a moment, before thinking ‘what a bunch of nutters’ and following along with the Jarl’s housecarl, who seemed more level headed than the rest of the crazy people.

“Are they always like this?” Rose asked the Dunmer while on their way to the tower, outside, on the plains of Whiterun.

Irileth took a look backwards, snorted, and rolled her eyes. “Nords,” she said as if that was all Rose needed to know to understand.

Maybe it was.

* * *

After a long time fighting, the dragon tried to land on the tower she was at with another two soldiers, and Rose grew from frustrated to angry. They’ve been shooting arrows at the damn wyrm for the past half an hour and it was like they barely tickled the damn thing. Every time it landed, the soldiers on foot and the many other fighters who joined their group from the surrounding farms, engaged the beast at land. The dragon’s wings were heavily damaged, but the thing was still able to fly.

With an angry snarl, Rose threw away the bow and took the nearest soldier’s dagger. The blade was shorter than her arm and it didn’t look too sharp, but it would do. The dragon landed, making the tower shake and the archers stumble to the floor. Rose, thankfully, wasn’t as easy to destabilize and jumped on the air, avoiding the dragon’s teeth and landing on one of its wings heavily, dagger leaned down, and the sharp blade cutting deep into the meat of the beast between the joints of one wing.

The wyrm roared in pain, convulsing and shaking her off when it went flying once more... but not for long. With the blade cutting the ligaments, the dragon wasn’t able to keep to the air anymore and fell at the same time she did.

Avoiding falling over a tree on fire, Rose kicked the side of the tower as she was falling down and made a back-flip in the air, landing on the dirt many floors bellow and far from the wall of fire by the tower. The female soldier next to her looked at Rose like she grew another head and Rose snickered.

The dragon landed at the same time, heavily and with much less grace than her a few meters to her left, leaving a bit crater under itself. The Nords roared and raced to attack.

While everyone run to aid in bullying the fallen dragon, Rose took a look down at her swollen and broken wrist. She huffed, putting the pain on the backburner and grabbing a sword from a dead Nord with her left hand, then she ran back to the middle of the chaos ahead.

* * *

“Dovahkiin? No!” The dragon cried as it died...

The dragon _spoke_ , Rose realized with a start. The convulsion of the dying beast ended a second later and as she turned to look around, trying to find her only may-be friend in this strange land, she took a few steps backwards as the beast burnt away... but, it wasn’t a beast, was it? It could talk after all...

As the scales gave away, under a shimmering effect of burning flesh, a multi-coloured light left the dragon and shot to her right. She followed the direction with her eyes, and there he was, Hadvar, getting engulfed in a psychedelic spectacle of lights. Rose cocked her head. What does that mean now? She wondered observing the strange happenings.

Hadvar swayed on the spot, but Rose was there a second later, holding him upright by his elbow... and forgetting about her broken wrist.

Rose hissed, taking her hand away with a flinch. “Chikushô!1” She cursed, letting the blade on her other hand fall to the floor, and rubbing her wrist trying to soothe her pain.

“Are you okay?” Irileth asked, appearing next to her suddenly and ignoring the Nords gasping like little girls on a crush, all around them.

“Yeah,” Rose grimaced, “Just a broken wrist, no biggie.”

Irileth rose a disbelieving eyebrow, but decided to ignore _her_ craziness and turned to Hadvar instead. “You don’t look well, boy. Better return to the city, quickly.”

Hadvar nodded, returning a concerned look Rose’s way and smiling nervously as the Nords kept crying about ‘Dragonborn!’ and ‘Dovahkiin!’ all around them.

“What the hell is a Dragonborn?” She mumbled as they walked away.

“What is hell?” Hadvar asked back with an almost relieved laugh.

“I asked first,” Rose playfully stuck her tongue out in his direction.

“I’ll tell you on the way to Solitude. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of Whiterun alright,” Hadvar said, pouting and trying not to laugh at her antics, but the twitch of his lips betrayed him.


	5. Is nothing to worry about

###### If you get lost, just ask directions from the locals

After a short visit to the Jarl when they returned, they rested for the night and took the carriage for Solitude early the next morning... with the unexpected company of Lydia, Hadvar's Housecarl.

“I don't _how_ I'm going to explain this to General Tullius,” Hadvar mumbled once they were on their way at the road, his head resting on his hands as he messed his hair. “I was meant to escort you to Solitude, not become a thane and fight dragons, damn it...”

Rose laughed softly, watching the plains of Whiterun rush by on the sides of the carriage. “Don't try to fight against Fate, dear. Believe me when I say, they're a stubborn bitch.”

Hadvar sighed, slumping on his seat and ignoring the weirdness of her words before his head started to go crazy overthinking. Lydia, on the other hand, eyed Rose with curiosity and wariness.

On the way to Rorikstead, they conversed and got to know the new member of their group a little. Lydia is a young and loyal woman, an only child, with a father that survived the Great War and is enjoying retired life, has a mother that has constant pains because of her advanced rockjoint, and a cousin in Solitude she barely remembers but hopes to meet again with during their visit; and now she’s the Dragonborn’s Housecarl and proud of it.

Like any other Nord Rose’s met, Lydia is painfully blunt with her words. They started discussing Rose’s life at one point, and in not so many words, the housecarl expressed her disbelief at Rose’s explanation of her world; the lack of Gods, the division between the human/demon realities, and other such things that made no sense for the woman — so of course, they couldn’t be real, right?

Rose doesn’t have anything to hide, she’s always been straightforward about who she is when meeting someone new, but Lydia was proving to be very narrowminded and trying to her patience.

Meanwhile, Hadvar was lulled into sleep by the movement of the cart and their constant chatter, only waking up for lunch when Rose started bringing out the food she prepared beforehand. The chicken, tomato, and cabbage sandwiches disappeared quickly, followed by the apples and warm wine that Rose heated with a snap of her fingers. Hadvar’s never being happier traveling anywhere.

There wasn’t much to see that night in Rorikstead as they arrived quite late, and the next day, now completely rested, Hadvar joined in their chatter, commenting on his own life and getting an idea of what his responsibilities as a thane are from Lydia. Until then, Rose had no idea Hadvar was orphaned so young as the subject didn’t come up before. No wonder Hadvar was so close to Alvor and his family, she realized.

The second day of their journey wasn’t so long, so they arrived at Dragonbridge with the sunset. The view was pretty good and Rose regretted not having a camera with her. And finally, the next day they reached Solitude.

Hadvar and Lydia shouldered their packs as they unloaded the cart, saying goodbye to their driver and walking up the slope leading to the big metal doors of the city proper. Rose already could see in the distance the sunlight blinking against the blue roof tiles of the palace, sitting on top of the incredible cliff to their right.

The crowds around Solitude far overshadowed those at Whiterun. With easily three times more people, it was like being back home for a moment. The three of them walked in silence as they made their way into the city and avoided the people milling around, going up some stairs after passing the market area and modest houses at the entrance.

“If you ever need to fix a sword or armour,” Hadvar commented as they passed by a store with an anvil sign hanging over the door, just as they came up the stairs, “That’s Beirand’s shop, he’s the local blacksmith, and since I’m with the Legion you can throw my name around and get a discount.”

Rose looked to the right and in the distance caught sight of said man, working on a bench under a small gallery, with the chimney spitting smoke on top of his house. Lydia hummed in acceptance next to her.

“And that one,” Hadvar pointed to the left before crossing the threshold to Castle Dour’s courtyard, “Is the fletcher. Fihada always has a varied assortment of arrows; good quality or prices... you can find either there.”

“I’ve only seen people using one type of arrows so far,” Rose commented remembering the fight against the dragon as they stepped into the castle, where the door was protected with two soldiers that greeted Hadvar with friendly smiles.

“The Legion commonly stocks the archers with iron arrows; cheap, but they do the job.” He shrugged as they wandered to a door in the inside and he knocked, waiting for an answer as the voices behind it continued their conversation for a while longer. “Nordic and elven arrows are better, but Eorlund is the only Nord I know off that still remembers how to make them, and since the Companions don’t mix with politics, he doesn’t sell to the Legion. And the elves... well, I told you about Atlmers,” Hadvar trailed off, and just then the door opened.

“Hadvar!” The woman behind the door exclaimed with a surprised but happy tone, “Good, you’re back. I was starting to get concerned.”

“Legate,” Hadvar replied, straightening into attention. “I return with Miss Black, as General Tullius commanded.”

“Come in, boy,” the voice of the General joined them and the woman moved, letting them in. “Ah, and the lady that fell from the skies too. Good. You took your time, Hadvar. And, who is the woman behind you?”

Rose nodded to the man wordlessly, knowing more about him now that she had time with Hadvar and he explained the situation in Skyrim and the position the man holds in respect to the war. She feels respect for him, if not only because he is good enough to keep a civil war as peaceful as she’s seen until now. Back at home, civil wars aren’t a thing, or at least in the Vampire Kingdom they aren’t, but other demons and humans have many, and they are messy and spill everywhere unlike what she’s seen so far here in Skyrim.

At her mention, Lydia straightened and stepped next to Hadvar, “Lydia of Whiterun, General Tullius. I serve Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, and now the Dragonborn, sir.”

“Dragonborn?” Tullius asked with a raised eyebrow. Lydia stepped back.

Hadvar fidgeted with his fingers, clasped behind his back, “Me, General... I, errr... A dragon, a different one from Helgen, attacked Whiterun’s watchtower when Miss Black and I were residing at the city. We helped, of course, and after we killed it... I absorved its soul... like in the legends of old...”

“I’m sorry, what?” The General blinked, disvelief clear on his face as he pinched his nose.

“I killed the dragon, sir.” Hadvar looked to the side at Rose and smirked, “Well, not only me. Rose broke its wing and gave us, on the floor, a chance to finish the dragon before it flew away.” Rose smirked, winking at Hadvar. He turned back to the General, who was now frowning and crossing his arms with a pensive look, “When the dragon died, some sort of light came out of the bones and rushed into me, and I can shout now... And the Greybeards called for the ‘Dovahkiin’ minutes later as we returned to Whiterun. Jarl Balgruuf strongly suggested I answer their summons...”

Tullius and the Legate shared a sideways glance, she nodded a moment later, turning her attention at Rose. “The General and Hadvar have things to discuss, why don’t I accompany you to the inn, to get settled until they’re done?”

“Should I get a room for you too, Hadvar?” Rose asked looking at him before leaving.

“No, it’s fine, thank you. I have rooms here,” he shocked his head. “Get rooms for you and Lydia, here, grab this,” he gave her a few silver coins and nodded at his housecarl reassuringly. “I’ll go looking for you when General Tullius and I finish talking.”

Rose nodded at the men and followed the Legate outside with Lydia. Rikke introduced herself and asked about the outlandish story one of the soldiers regaled her, about Rose’s arrival in the middle of the execution, and snorted in amusement when Rose explained the situation.

“So you aren’t actually a Daedra, good to know,” the woman nodded as they descended the stairs back to the market area of Solitude.

“I don’t even know what a Daedra is?” Rose said with confusion, “Hadvar has been explaining things to me, but we didn’t reach that part yet.”

“Daedra are demons, inhabitants of Oblivion, and serve the Daedric Princes.”

“Oh...” Rose exclaimed. She read about the Daedric Princes, but was still confused, after all she _is_ a demon, she just doesn’t serve any God... How different can this _demons_ be from what she's used to...?

“They come in many different shapes and forms,” Rikke continued her explanation. “Two hundred years ago, the Lord of Destruction, Mehrunes Dagon, invaded Tamriel and released his horde of Daedra on us. As I understand it, mages studied the defeated foes in search of ways to deal with them easier, but I’m no mage. You’ll have to talk with one to get a deeper understanding of Daedra. What is your race called, anyway? You kind of look like an elf, but I don’t want to make assumptions.”

Rose huffed a laugh, “From order of importance I’m a Fire Demon first, since that the element that comes to me easier and I'm from the Demon Dimension, a Vampire next, and a... err... well the last one doesn’t really matter. I call myself a vampire,” she summarized with a shrug as the woman gave her a wary once over, but continued, to assuage the Legate’s concern, as she was quite sure the woman will speak with the General once she returns from seeing them to the inn. “I’m a Princes of house Kasai, by my father’s side of the family; third in the line of succession. I’m also the crown Princes of house Black, since my mother was the Queen before passing the mantle to my uncle when she decided to marry father. Those are only two of the thirteen covens ruling the Vampire Kingdom.” She threw around her royal titles only to make sure they didn’t try to get ideas about detaining her or anything else. It never hurts to make people think you’re important and maybe even dangerous to cross, when lost far from home and everything you know. Or at least she thinks so; her tactic worked quite well the last time she got lost.

“Vampires having a kingdom...” Rikke mumbled faintly and with some humour.

“We do,” Rose surprise her with an answer, startling the woman. “Don’t look so surprised, I have a good hearing,” and she laughed. “Hadvar actually told me about the vampires of this world and their infamous history. But let me reassure you, I’m not an undead, bloodthirsty, and mindless monster.”

“How different are you then?” Rikke asked with renewed curiosity.

“Well, to start with, I was born a vampire. Like my parents and the rest of my ancestors before me,” Rose said, making the woman’s eyebrows shot up to her fringe. “Hadvar told me the vampires here are usually turned, not born, right?” The woman nodded. “So, that is the most prominent and differentiating trait between me and them.”

“Yes, Sanguinare Vampiris,” Rikke said, humming under her breath, “But, do you still need to drink blood...?”

“Yes and no,” Rose waved her hand in front of her from side to side. “I can eat a steak and enjoy it just as good as you, but it only keeps me sated for a short while and I can’t depend only on it or I become sick and start ageing prematurely. If I drink blood though? I can go on for a week without any other type of sustenance easily, and these days I only need maybe a cup of blood every once a week or two.”

“But,” Lydia stammered, jumping into the conversation suddenly for the first time, “If you bite someone, don’t they turn into vampires too?”

“Nope,” Rose shook her head. “I understand a scratch from a fingernail, or simply a vampire using magic on you here, can turn you. But I’m not like that. Rememeber that I’m a vampire because I was born as such, not because I was infected with a disease. I’m not undead, and even if I were to bite someone, they’d remain human **—** or whatever else they are **—** with no signs of change whatsoever. They’ll be a little tired because of the blood loss, but that’s it. It's not worse than doing a lot of exercise in a single day and then feeling tired and sore the next day; given a day or two, you'll recover.”

They arrived at the inn then and Rikke talked to the owner, one Corpulus Vinius, getting them rooms and a meal for the three of them. Lydia took her time leaving her pack on her room, while Rose merely took a look around and, satisfied, returned to the table outside where Rikke sat waiting for them with food being served.

“Oh, smells nice,” Rose sniffed the air over the peas, caramelized onions, and some kind of roasted meat. “What types of wines do you have?” She asked to the young girl attending them, but only received a confused look in answer.

“Humm, red wine?” The girl’s said and Rose sighed in disappointment.

“Good thing my friend isn’t here with me,” Rose murmured with an amused look at Rikke as the girl left.

“Oh?”

“He’s a wine snob,” Rose snickered, “He must have the proper drink to accompany each meal or he starts having this... tick, it’s so amusing to witness,” she laughed shaking her head and grabbed the cutlery, bitting down on a piece of meat and humming at the taste, “Boar?”

“Yes,” Rikke nodded, eating from her own plate.

Lydia returned then, sitting with a sigh and digging in the food with gusto, while Rose scrunched her nose after tasting the wine.

“Ugh, Zéph spoiled me for normal wine,” she grumbled, putting down the distasteful drink. “Two hundred years ago I woudn’t have batted an eyelash at this,” she explained when the women gave her a look, “Now I can’t swallow it down.”

Lydia snorted.

“Is your friend like you?” Rikke asked instead.

“Vampire? Yeah. He’s from another family though,” Rikke cocked an eyebrow in question and Rose took her time chewing the meat, “Crown Prince of another ruling coven. We met when I was around twenty. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

“So, you’re two hundred years old...” Rikke commented, eyeing Rose up and down, “You don’t look it.”

“Two hundred and thirty-eight,” Rose pointed out and Lydia chocked on her food.

Lydia blinked owlishly as she turned to watch Rose. “But... How old are your parents then?”

Rose shrugged, “Mum was five hundred and five when she died. Father and his second wife are...” Rose cocked her head, thinking about it, and answering a couple of seconds later, “Seven hundred and sixty-four, seven hundred and sixty-six repectively.”

Rikke gulped down her wine, putting the empty goblet down with a heavy tump when she was done, “Holy cow!”

“That isn’t so surprising for my kind,” Rose waved their shock away with her hand. “I mean, grandpa is _sixteen hundred_ years old...”

Rikke gulped down thickly, “And who is the oldest vampire you know?”

Rose smiled, “King Grímr is over eight thousands years old.”

“Shor’s beard! I can’t even...” Lydia exclaimed, stumped.

Smirking in mischief, Rose added, “I know older people though.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no...” Rikke waved around her hands wildly and Lydia stopped before asking more. “That’s enough for my brain,” the Legated rubbed her temple in emphasis.

“I won’t ask how old but, who?” Lydia enquired, unable to contain herself.

“The Elven King, of course,” Rose laughed loudly.

Lydia snorted, “Elves!” And rolled her eyes, done with the conversation for the moment.

The Legate put down the cutlery and started drinking in earnest, asking more questions about Rose’s world, with the imput of Lydia here and there, and getting highly interested about the quite similar races living in both worlds; vampires, were-races, elves, and humans in their own reality believing the other’s simple myth.

An hour or so later Hadvar interrupted them, telling Rikke that Tullius requested her presence and sitting to eat something himself, looking exhausted.

“Here you go, Hadvar!” The girl from earlier exclaimed with a wide smile, leaving a big plate of food for the soldier on the table and taking away the empty plates. “Do you need anything else?”

“Another bottle, please,” Lydia said, handing over the empty one.

“Nothing for me, thanks,” Rose added.

“Thanks, Minette,” Hadvar also replied, making the girl leave with a giggle and a seductive sway to her hips.

“Oh, someones got a crush on you, big guy,” Rose eyed Hadvar and waggled her eyebrows playfully.

“Shut up,” Hadvar laughed embarrassed.

“So, how was your talk with the General?” Rose asked after she gave the starving man some time to ease part of his hunger.

“Fine,” he said after swallowing, “But he wants us to wait a while, before deciding to leave us ‘free’ to do our things.”

“Are you going to go to the mountain, to visit the hermits then?”

“Yes. I want answers, and beyond what is widely known about the Dragonborn by oral tradition, there isn’t much more about it. I have many questions for the Greybeards.”

“Okay then,” Rose nodded, “I’ll return with you as far as Whiterun if that’s the case, and you don’t mind?” Hadvar nodded, apparently expecting that already and accepting of the idea. “Afterwards, I should visit that college you mentioned. I want to ask someone that is immersed in magic about ways to return home. Maybe they’ll have some ideas about dimension-hopping.”

Hadvar hummed, sitting up on the chair and cleaning his mouth with a napkin, “You know, I always wanted to learn some magic...” He rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “Depending on what the Greybeards want me to do, I may take a look around the College afterwards, since General Tullius said he’ll give me leave from the Legion to take care of the dragons. If you don’t mind waiting a few days, we can travel together.”

“I thought Nords don’t quite like magic,” Rose commented in surprise, “Or did I get the wrong impression?”

Lydia snorted, “That’s like saying werewolves are hairy.”

Hadvar laughed at his housecarl’s comment and then explained himself, “While my parents certainly disliked magic, uncle Alvor and aunt Sigrid never instilled any dislike of it in me, and I spend more time with them than my parents, who I barely remember. So I don’t feel in any special way about magic. If anything, I’d like to learn some healing spells, as they’re always useful in the aftermath of battle, but this time around I won’t have the battlemages available at any time I'll need them, while fighting dragons all over Skyrim.”

Rose nodded, finding sense in his words, “It’s always wise to prepare for any type of trouble you may encounter while travelling into the unknown. I don’t mind waiting while you visit the Greybeards. You said there is a small town at the foot of the mountain, right?”

“Yes, Ivarstead.”

“We’ll go and I’ll take on the views while you’re busy then.”

“Good,” Hadvar smiled and focused back on finishing his meal.

* * *

“What is that big building in the distance?” Rose asked once they were walking around the city later that day, while Hadvar showed her and Lydia the interesting spots around Solitude.

“The Bard’s College,” Hadvar replied, taking a quick look to where she was pointing before returning to his inspection of the ebony sword one stall had for sell. “Viarmo, an Altmer, is the headmaster. You met Lissete already, she studied and graduated from there a couple of months ago.” He puts the sword down with a wistful sigh before continuing to look around as they walked along the market area.

“Aren’t you going to buy that sword? I thought you said it’s better than your current one,” Rose inquired.

“I want it, sure, but I don’t have the septims,” Hadvar grimaced, “Ebony is so expensive...” he said sighing again.

Rose hummed, thinking of the last time she felt the tightening of her purse when buying something... and couldn’t quite remember it. She snorted. Life in the castle certainly spoiled her, but then again, she’s never had trouble finding a well-paid job while she was on her own either... or some mercenary work when she didn’t. It’s not like she’s picky. What can she say? Morals aren’t her forte...

They stop in front of a stall where an elderly woman worries her hands as she looks down at the shelves of her stall until she notices Hadvar and remarkably lightens up.

“My boy, it’s so good to see you! Where have you been?” The woman asked, walking around her stall and hugging Hadvar, then pinching his cheeks. “You look thinner, you should eat better, Hadvar.”

“Good to see you too, Evette,” Hadvar laughed and took her hands from his reddened cheeks, “I’m fine, you worry too much.”

“And who are these young ladies?” The woman turned then her attention at Rose and Lydia behind him. “Are any of you perhaps, Hadvar’s girlfriend?”

Hadvar pinked even more, sputtering next to Evette while Rose smiled warmly at the woman, the elder exuded good vibes that made Rose feel the she’s trustworthy and loyal. But more than anything, she was enjoying how Hadvar was unable to answer, completely embarrassed by the woman’s question.

“My name is Lydia, ma’am,” the Nord stepped forward and nodded to the elder, “I’m the Dragonborn’s housecarl.”

“Oh, is good to meet you lass, you take good care of this boy, he’s too kind for his own good. And what is this Dragonborn business?” She asked turning to Hadvar, who only nodded and shrugged as if it was nothing.

“Well met,” Rose said with a basic courtesy at the woman when she stopped rolling her eyes an turned a curious glance her way, “I’m Rose Black, and I’m not Hadvar’s girlfriend.”

“No, but you’re more pleasant than most girls in this city,” Evette turned to Hadvar with a determined frown, “You should make her your girlfriend, boy. A nice face and manners that can only belong to a noble background? That’s a good prospect if ever saw one.”

“Evette San!”

Hadvar facepalmed, flaming red under the assault of their laughter all around him. Even Lydia couldn’t help herself and was as it too.

“I don’t know,” Rose commented, coming down from her high humour, “He’s pleasant to the eyes, but I may break him...” Rose snickered some more.

“Ah, quite true,” Evette nodded, glancing from Rose to said man with an assesive glance over. “Hadvar is a sweet boy...”

“Wait,” Hadvar complained, with more sputtering, “What is _that_ suppose to mean?”

More laughter ensued.


	6. As it'll give us time to chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... I think the tag of _'Lore Heavy Chapter'_ applies for this one?

###### Always be mindful of having a good relationship with the local law enforcement

“I’m no elf, but in my world there exists such beings, the Elven Kingdom is our neighbour actually; but unlike _your_ elves, in my world, all of them have pale pink skin and pointed ears, with no other defining characteristic similar to those of this world. Alongside them, the Kitsune Territory to the north-west is other of our neighbours, and when I explained to Hadvar what they look like, he mentioned the old and extinct race of _Lilmothiit_ that you used to have? Also, on the north-east limit, the Neko Lands is inhabited by what Hadvar called Kahjiit, only that in my world they have cat ears and tails, without any fur covering the rest of their bodies.”

“And what about humans?” General Tullius asked, a cup of wine dancing on his fingers as they sat around the lounge after having dinner together.

“There are many parallel realities in my world. The Demon’s realm is separated from the Human’s by a barrier the ruling Lords of the time chose to raise to keep us apart. Some thousand years ago or so, there were many portals connecting both realities together; humans and demons alike travelled to both worlds freely until then. But well, as usual, a group of pigheaded ego-maniacs got together, and with the idea of taking over the human world to rule over the ‘lesser’ beings, they started a war. Long story short, the humans kicked their arses, because while they certainly aren’t _that_ strong, they are stronger than the dumb weaklings who wanted to take over earth.”

“Where they from any of the races mentioned beforehand?”

“Not likely,” Rose snorted. “While the Vampire Kingdom developed teleportation devices capable to reach the human world as out territory didn't have those portals connecting the worlds, they’re used for commerce mostly. Then the elves don’t like the human world, the human's technology development contaminates their surroundings and the elves are all for conserving natural resources and caring for nature in contrast. The cats are very much against violence too; their cities are full of entertainment establishments and the sort, they care nothing for humans, who are very self-destructive. Cats are only like that in the aspect that they enjoy over-indulging toxic and hallucinogenic substances, much like your khajiit and their moon sugar.” Rose compared, making Tullius snort. “There is a saying back in my world that goes like this: If it isn’t approved by a Neko, then it isn’t worth getting into.”

“They sound troublesome,” Tullius sighed.

“Oh, they are! There’s no doubt about that,” Rose laughed. “The kitsune...” she continued, grimacing at the mention of the foxes, “They’re a little like the elves; most of their territory is overflown with plants... dangerous ones that could eat you in a single bite, but mostly, they’re better known for their skilled and nimble fingers.”

“Thieves?” The Imperial commented with surprise.

Rose shrugged, “Never been there, so I couldn’t say how accurate that assessment is, but from some tales from friends who visited and ‘lost’ personal items during their journey it's quite accourate.” Tullius simply snorted a laugh and asked for her to continue with a simple motion of his hand. “While I’m sure werewolves would love to invade the human world, but they don’t have the tech to travel as they have no magic to speak of, and didn't have portals in their lands either. In the other hand, werebears are reclusive and don’t care about anyone but their own. That leaves us with the Seelie and Unseelie courts, beyond the Elven Kingdom; their bunch certainly has the magic required to travel to the human world, but not a reason or need to do so, except for their youngest members who like to take their time sometimes in pranking and confusing the humans as much as they do the rest of our world.”

“The rest are simply called demons, you said?”

“Yes. There are many tribes, sub-species, and sub-sub-species of them, that the rest of us don’t really bother remembering about.”

“Then how do you know who invaded the human world?”

Rose shrugged, “As I said, travel between worlds was easy in those days, so there were way too many witnesses to recognize with certainty who the guilty party was of that problem. In my world, there is a very large piece of land that suffered a massive war a long time ago. The damage was so vast that the soil is dead and barren to this day, and there aren’t even ruins remaining from whichever civilization lived there; it happened so long in fact, that no one remembers who participated in it, or why. The Demon race you see, we are all about power and the survival of the strongest; and this place is where demons without a tribe, or those who are cast away for some reason, live at. They're notoriously weak and emanciated as there is little to nothing to survive from in the area... and they were the ones who started the war against the humans. The Lords sent notice of the separation, recalling all of the members of our world to return home after they ended the war and an investigation took place, and a while later they raised a world-wide barrier to close all the gates so people can’t leave the demon world anymore.”

“But there are exceptions, like your family and those... teleporters.”

“Of course. As everything in life. But also, if we were ever to break the treaty of peace by attacking the humans, then all of the Vampire Kingdom would pay a high price for it.”

“Ah, a safeward.”

“My kind isn’t the only one who has deals with the humans... or needs them for survivial.”

“That is where you get your blood from?” Tullius asked, just realizing he didn’t remember to ask before about it.

“Humans have developed in the healing department a lot over the years. They have blood banks, where they pay people to donate blood for those in need.”

“Donated blood?” Tullius asked looking sick.

“They don’t have magic,” Rose pointed, “So they don’t have alchemy and potions that can heal them in a matter of minutes. When someone gets ill, needs surgery, or has blood problems, they rely on the blood donated from other people who is compatible with that of the sick person. The thing is, many diseases spread wide in their world over the years, diseases that can affect a sane person if they get a transfusion from contaminated blood, but it doesn’t affect us if we consume it. That is where vampires get in; we take all of that contaminated blood from them, in exchange for making sure that what remains for their use is clean, without them having to waste a lot of money in manpower and machines to test if the donated blood is viable for their uses.”

Tullius nodded in admiration, “Good idea.”

“It’s just good business; everyone gains something, everyone is happy,” Rose shrugged.

“You seem very knowledgeable in the matter,” Tullius reached.

“The Kasai family is in charge of that specific business arrangement and I’m the third princess in the line of succession,” Rose commented with an annoyed eye roll, she doesn’t really give a rat’s arse about any of it but, “It’s _expected_ of me to know about the family’s dealings.”

“You mean you can still inherit the throne?” He said surprised. “Even if you are female?”

Rose glared at the man. “And why wouldn’t I?” She asked coldly, because of what he was implying.

“Apologies,” Tullius raised his hands placatingly, “I didn’t mean to offend you. Is just that no nobility I’ve ever heard of in Nirn, in all of our history, has given the same opportunity to females, as they do the male heirs to inherit.”

Huffing, Rose accepted the apology, “The Demon World isn’t like that. In fact, out of the thirteen houses, five of them have Queens ruling at the moment, with three other covens ruled equally by both partners, and the rest is ruled just by a King only because the Queen is dead. In fact, in the case of the D’aramitz family, the King is just the pretty boy-toy of the Queen, nothing more,” Rose snorted, “She’s one of the most envied women in the entire Kingdom, I think. Reed D’aramitz is quite the view... and I’ve only ever seen his painting,” she smirked at Tullius’ amusedly laughed.

“I was going to inquire about your parent’s thought on such comments,” Tullius drawled a moment later, shaking his head, “But then again, while you look like a young girl, you may not be one. Do you mind me asking your age, my lady?”

“I’m two hundred and thirty-eight years old,” Rose said, winking at the startled man.

“Well, that’s fine then,” he commented picking on his neckline and throwing a furtive glance at her entire figure.

“Isn’t it just?” Rose purred, enjoying how the man’s Adam apple bobbed as he gulped down nervously and excused himself, getting up to go in search of more wine. Rose laughed softly in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this out of my head, any similarities with reality (?) or other stories is mere coincidence.  
> If there is anything.  
> I have no idea, I'm just as surprised I wrote this as the next guy.


	7. And prepare tu return with more energy

###### Plan ahead, but be wary of change, you don’t know what you can accidentally stumble on your way...

A few days later, after having many talks late at night over dinner with the General, he was satisfied with her answers. He accepted that she isn’t a danger to civilians, except for a minor debilitating effect here and there, and let them go.

Putting his affairs in order, Hadvar packed his possesions from the barracks, packing those things he wouldn’t need to leave at Alvor’s and putting the rest in his bag. As usual, Rose didn’t have much to take care of thanks to her ever-useful pocket dimension. And Lydia simply had a new sword to show off from their visit; a gift from her cousin Jordis, a shield-maiden under the service of the local Jarl.

“Sorry to make you wait,” Hadvar gasped as he finally arrives at the carriage in a rush.

“Where were you?” Rose complained, yawning sleepily.

“Evette had problems with her stocks, she asked for my help before leaving.” Hadvar finished arranging his bags and jumped on the carriage, prompting the driver to take off. “She sends you a gift,” he said passing a bottle of the woman’s famous spiced wine to her.

“Oh, thanks!” Rose exclaimed with delight. She discovered that she quite enjoys Evette’s homemade brew a while ago, and it became her favourite beverage to accompany meals, or while reading at night. The swill served at the inn only worked in making her lose her appetite more times than not.

Their return travel was less eventual than the previous time around. With Hadvar fretting about ‘what will the Greybeards tell him?’ and Lydia silent as the grave, Rose kept the company of her books and learned about the world. One thing Rose isn’t fond of while travelling is the in-between time when you have to sit or walk for interminable hours until you reach your destination. It’s mind-numbingly boring!

After four days on the road — _four days!_ — they reached Ivarstead... By then Rose was grasping at straws and about ready to burn any book that had the misfortune to cross her sight!

“Welcome to the Vilemyr Inn. If there's anything I can get you, just let me know,” the innkeeper at the bar called when they walked inside.

In all honestly, the small town was a sad view. Even smaller than Riverwood, but it had just as many abandoned buildings and few people around. Hadvar and Lydia carried their heavy-looking bags to the closest table and Rose went to ask about rooms while they ordered food.

“Hello,” she said earning the immediate attention of the balding man behind the countertop, “Do you have free rooms?”

“Sure, how many will you want?”

“We need two single beds...”

Unlike the Bannered Mare, with many rooms on the second floor; or the Sleeping Giant, with only two small rooms and very uncomfortable beds — or so Hadvar grumbled to her the next morning; Vilemyr inn is somewhere in the middle of the other two in quantity and quality. It has four bedrooms in front of the entrance door, and two doors on the back by the counter that may lead to the owner’s room and maybe the bathroom.

“Only two single beds?” The man asked a little confused but directed her to a room nonetheless. “This one here has two beds, or you can use the rooms to the left, where each has only one bed. They’re all empty, so you can take your pick. Either way, it’s eight silvers the night.”

Rose thanked the man and talked to the other two, asking for their preferences. As expected, they picked separated rooms with only one bed, left their things inside, and returned to the table to eat dinner. Hadvar wanted to go to sleep early, planning on starting the next day before the sun came up, to reach the summit with enough time for whatever the Greybeards may have planned for him. But he was so nervous that he was lazily picking at his food, until it was more cold than edible.

“What are you fretting about now?” Rose said, exasperated as the man’s worries tired her during the previous days.

“What if I’m not good enough?” Hadvar mumbled, covering his face with his hands and rubbing his eyes. “What if-”

“Hadvar!” Rose reprimanded him with a hard tone, but not loudly as she didn’t want to garner the attention of the few people around the inn. “We spoke about this at length already. If a God chooses you for a task, then it is most probable that you’re the best possible choice for the job. Don’t start worrying about it again, and for the love of everything, stop doubting yourself! You don’t even know why you’re Dragonborn, or what being one even means. Relax, go to sleep, and tomorrow you can ask your million questions to the hermits at the top of the mountain and stop fretting.”

“I know you’re right,” Hadvar grumbled, “But I can’t help to worry. You make it seem so easy, all the time relaxed and nothing bothering you... but it isn’t.”

Rose huffed, “I’m just old enough not to care about much of anything,” she said waving a hand dismissively. “I know my strengths and weaknesses. I know what I can deal with and what I need to be careful about. And you’re young enough to worry about the ‘what if’s when I know it’s better not to dwell on useless mental traps such as those. Are you sure you don’t want me to put you under a sleeping spell for the night?”

“I want to try and fall asleep naturally first,” Hadvar spoke after a long silence. “I may not dislike magic, but I’m not entirely comfortable about a sleeping spell anyway. No offence.”

“None taken,” she said nonchalant, knowing better than to push people about magic.

She’s surrounded by royalty back at home after all. While some people may think that means luxury, being spoiled rotten, and getting all you want all the time, it isn’t entirely like that. Kidnappings and bad experiences are something all of them go through at one point along the road. And with their long lifespans? More so. She knows lots of people who stopped practising magic, or broke up with their partners, becoming hermits, because they are scared of it or have traumas they can’t overcome. Her best friend even has an unhealthy hate against illusion magic since his little sister was taken hostage once, and the bastards kept the four years old under spells that rendered her unable to see anything, or be heard by anyone when they grew tired of her crying.

“I’m gonna go look around,” Rose finally said, standing and taking their empty plates to Wilhelm.

Hadvar nodded and continued talking with Lydia, who was complaining about being left behind the next day as he planned to climb to High Hrothgar by himself. Rose snorted as she put the levitating plates on the countertop, amused as she heard Hadvar’s reasoning to going up the mountain alone. He’s so confident now, when a moment ago he was moping about his abilities like a child!

“Is that levitation what you did with the plates?” Wilhelm asked when she stopped sniggering, with her back to Hadvar and Lydia. Rose nodded and cleaned a tear that fell from so much laughing and trying to keep it silent. “You must be a very powerful mage, my friend! I wish I knew magic, if only to snap my fingers and have everything clean itself in a moment.”

Rose started laughing some more, “Wha-at?” She snorted, loudly this time, “You can’t just magic away the grease off the plates, don’t be silly!”

Wilhelm rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “Well, I wouldn’t know since I’m no mage...”

“You’re so funny,” she said with a sigh as she finally calmed down and rested her hands on the countertop, “Anyway, do you know about anything interesting to do or see around here?”

“Interesting?” The man mumbled, scratching his stubbled chin and humming.

Just then, a young woman in a simple yellowish dress came into the inn, hurried up to Wilhelm, pale-faced, and fearfully whispered to him. “I think I saw it again,” she gasped with a trembling tone. “That... ghost. It was over by the barrow!”

“That thing's evil, Lynly! I told you to keep away from there!” The man answered, forgetting Rose was there and hugging the shivering woman to him protectively, with a fearsome expression on his face.

“I'm sorry... I was curious... I didn't believe the stories, but I won't go over there _ever_ again,” the woman replied, clutching tightly to the man’s shirt.

“See that you don't. I promised to keep you safe and I'm not going to break my word.” And then, almost feeling Rose’s excitement, Wilhelm caught her eyes and sighed, “If I were you, I'd keep away from the barrow on the east side of town... it's haunted.”

“Pish-posh,” Rose waved her hand nonplussed and smiled, vibrating with emotion for the first time in a long while. “Ghosts can be dealt with easily. I’ll even say, dealing with wandering spirits it’s kind of my specialty. Tell me more about it, I’ll go and get rid of your ghost. I’m bored anyway.”

Wilhelm frowned, “If you’re sure...” Rose nodded fervently and the Nord sighed. “There ain't much more to tell... Ghosts wander around the entrance of the barrow from time to time, just after sunset. I've seen one of them with my very own eyes. When it glared at me, I swear it burned right through my soul.”

“Just the entrance of the barrow? Don’t they wander into the city?” Rose wondered sceptically. “And is it always after the sun falls?”

“Fortunately, they seem to be sticking to the barrow. I think they're guarding it. It certainly isn't helping my business any; who'd want to rent a room anywhere near a haunted barrow?” Wilhelms sighed, and as the girl calmed down hearing their conversation, she let go of his shirt and sat on a stool, cleaning her face with her hands as she was apparently crying a little.

Wilhelm worried over the girl for a moment, getting her a cup of water and a kerchief. When Rose cleared her throat pointedly, he realized he never answered her other question.

“Er, right.” He adopted a thinking position with a finger under his chin, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard about the others seeing the ghosts during the day...”

“That sounds like a dark spirit...” Rose whispered, “Disliking daylight usually means that but... Are you sure it looked at you?”

“I’m very sure,” Wilhelm shivered slightly, nodding his head.

“Do you know if anyone else ever got the same reaction?”

“I wouldn’t know,” the man grumbled, “Most people keep away from the place. But if it ever happened to someone else, they never said.”

Well crap, Rose thought at the lack of information and details. But it was just ghosts so, no matter, she can deal with spirits in her sleep. If it is a memory impression of someone who died there, then it’ll be a touch and go thing. If there is an actual soul, or souls, wandering around, she’ll just make them cross over and probably inspect the barrow as, generally, souls like to wander all over, not just one fixed place.

It generally is just a matter of dead people being afraid of ‘what is beyond dying’ that scares them and keeps their spirits tide to the mortal world, or unsolved business, which she can take care of no problem.

Likewise, if it is a protective soul. She’ll only tide its life force to the barrow to keep it safe, making the shade disappear and become a ward over the entrance, thus protecting the sensibilities of the people around and at the same time keeping the spirit happy.

But if it is a dark spirit, she doesn’t have any holy symbols from this world’s powers-to-be... err, the Gods — damn, she’s not used to dealing with _godlings_ , what a pest... — so she can’t exorcise them.

Anyway, she can always deal with it the old fashioned way, if things turn south. Kicking their arses to the other side with some hellfire.

“Argh, whatever!” Rose rolled her eyes, put off by the lack of options. “Anyone’s been there lately?”

Wilhelm though for a moment before answering, “About a year or two ago... some fella named Wyndelius came through; said he was some kind of a treasure hunter. I warned him not to go in there, just like I warned you. The very next night we heard screams from the barrow, and that was it. We never saw him again.”

Rose raised an eyebrow, “I imagine, from all that you’ve told me, that no one bothered to check for his body afterwards?”

The man snorted, “No.”

Without losing more time, Rose walked outside and jumped to the roof of the building in front of the inn, planning to cast a spell designed to point the north for her, to get directions, but it was just the same as the barrow greeted her almost immediately from the higher point of view she had.

There were maybe half a dozen houses around the one she was standing on top of, but they were smaller and shrouded by darkness as night already fell while she was questioning Wilhelm. Focusing on the dome-shaped structure in the distance, she could easily discern a blueish bipedal shape, but the pointed ears clearly distinguished the ‘ghost’ as some kind of elf. Now, she’s not judging, but she’s never seen a ghost as lively.

Breathing, stomping a foot, crossing his arms while resting with his back against the wall, and fidgeting impatiently. It was almost like he didn’t realize he’s dead... and even then, that kind of spirits still act differently from how they used to while alive, without realizing. They’re as silent and unmoving as a rock. Until something or someone disturbs them.

Something smells fishy about all of this, she thought glaring at the spirit.

Jumping back down, Rose made use of the convenient darkness the night cast all around and gathered the shadows around her body, frowning when they seemed to fight her grasp for a short and unexpected second before settling around her as usual. Rose grumbled, rolling her eyes at the odd feeling of being watched by the — usually — unproblematic darkness. Without giving it more thoughts than it deserved — damned godlings — she started walking in the direction of the barrow while avoiding the lights from the nearby houses.

As she became used to the dark surroundings, her eyes adjusted and she was able to see the light-grey stonework of the barrow’s entrance and admire the _different_ type of architecture used for its construction. She used the stairs and stumped her feet on the entrance, cleaning the clinging dirt from the sole of her heels as it affected her walk, and continued inside.

Coffins sat open and with dry bones against the outer wall of the barrow, at either side of it, with an old table left barely standing at the back. Animal heads — maybe some type of birds? — hugged the table at each side; the marble surface was chipped and outright broken in parts, there where many corroded and useless tools on top of it, of which she could recognize some oddly shaped scissors and a scalpel... maybe. Is this were ancient Nords prepared the bodies buried in the barrow?

Without answers, Rose turned to the door confronting the table and pushed the metal lightly with a finger. The surprisingly well-kept door opened effortlessly. The hinges didn’t even squeak; oiled, she determined after breathing in deeply and tasting the air. Commonly used then. And very often, she’s beginning to think, as she also caught the smell of a _living_ person. Sweat and salt aren’t the scents that dry bones, or even rotting bodies, commonly produce; and she’s quite familiar with the scent of death, she’d know.

Behind the door, a spiral staircase leading down makes her watch her footsteps. An old barrow and wood don’t mix well, generally. Plants roots grow on the stone walls, so she keeps a hand raised and close to them in case the wood suddenly gives out under her; water drips from the ceiling and she fears to step on rotten wood... but soon she’s at the bottom and safe. Humm...

A shelf with rotten linen, urns, vials with questionable liquids, and lots of dust sits next to an archway leading to the next chamber. Beyond it, the barrow proper is displayed for her. A strong scent of death permeates the air now, burning her nostrils and making it hard to discern one smell from another, so she loses the leading scent she was following. Pity. But oh well, what can you do?

The place is in ruins, but she imagines it was quite the sight when first finished, and... it’s pretty much well illuminated for and old and abandoned crypt. She releases her hold on the shadows, the light rendering them useless anyway.

_Leave this place . . ._

She hears a male voice call clearly, echoing in the silent crypt loudly. She turns a corner, following the sound to its source, finding a lowered grate, and behind it stands the ‘ghost.’

_Leave this place . . ._

Rose can’t help but snort. “This is so disappointing,” she whispers, watching the so-called spirit turn around, all the time telling her to leave in a parody of a ghostly voice.

With a sigh, she turns around and keeps exploring.

* * *

Inside the only other available chamber, there is a big table, on top of which sits a book. Rose opens the leather cover and reads the title.

_Before the ages of man_

“Are you kidding me?” She complains to nothing but air. The book is well kept, the writing clearly legible, and it practically screams at her that it doesn’t belong to the old dungeon. “Just _how_ _dumb_ is he?” She whispers and sends the new book to her pocket dimension as the corner of her right eye twitches.

[...]

The combination of levers to open the closed grate isn’t difficult at all and she’s _so_ disspointed.

But as she walks into the next room, the gleam of gold under the torchlights calls her attention. She takes a closer look and finds a bunch of septims, partially covered by dust, in the corner by another urn.

“Seriously?” Rose breathes out, but feels like screaming.

[...]

The next door was locked, but with her strength, a little push solved the problem... but activated a trap. _That_ was actually ingenious, if only she fell for it.

Likewise, the chest on the back is another trap. Levitating the chest to her cuts the cord, activates the trap, and the results are just the same. She earns a few more septims for her troubles.

“This is better than nothing, I imagine,” she says with a huff, “But I’m still beating the daylights out of him.”

[...]

A chain opened the way to continue, and ignoring the obvious trap door, she followed the soft sound of breathing and a galloping heartbeat at the end of the hall. As she approached her end-goal, the air turned warmer, light danced from the lighted chimney ahead, and a ghostly figure waited for her.

_Who dares desecrate this_ -

“Please, spare me the theatrics,” Rose rolled her eyes, clicked her tongue, and brushed off her hair. With a snap of her fingers, her shadow extended forward, shooting off the floor and wrapping around the unsuspecting elf, like living coils of darkness. The man squeaked in surprise. “This is disappointing enough already.”

Before he even started grating on her remaining patience, she also made the shadows gag him.

“Sit there just looking pretty, I’ll be done soon enough,” she mocked him, patting his head, and then walked forward, eyeing the notebook sitting innocently on the stone table.

Opening the notebook, the first page read: ‘Journal of Wyndelius Gatharian’

Rose licked the pad of a finger and separated the pages while, on the floor, the elf wiggled a little and turned enough to be able to see her.

“Journal of Wyndelius Gatharian,” she read out loud. “Hello, Wyndelius,” she turned a hand and wiggled her fingers at him.

And just as the man frowned, babbling incoherently against the tentacle of darkness gagging him, the effects of the ghostly form ran off. In front of her kneeled a Dunmer, the characteristical grey-blue skin and red eyes of his race looking quite exotic to her eyes as she was just getting used to the many new races of this world.

Staring analytically at the man, she turned the page over. “Aren’t we handsome,” she commented surprised and only then turned her eyes back down to the journal.

“Four ‘e’,” Rose said, cocking her head. “Four ‘e’?” She looked down at the defenceless Dunmer for a minute... “Ah. Fourth _era_ , right? I think I remember Hadvar saying something about eras.” The man looked back without moving or making a sound. “Forgive me, I’m still getting used to the lingo of this world.” The Dunmer frowned. “In mine, we don’t count eras. Anyway, let’s get back to the reading. I’m sure it’s going to be _enlightening_ ,” she giggled dumbly at her own silly joke and the man huffed loudly through his nose.

Clearing her throat, she restarted. “ _Fourth era, two hundred. Eighteen of Morning Star_...” and she paused once more. “What the hell is that?” She looked at the elf, “What the hell is that?” His answer was an exaggerated eye roll. “I’ll have to ask Hadvar later, because frankly, I have no idea, and instead of helping, you simply give me an eye roll. Rude!”

The man huffed and slumped sideways, but still looking up at her.

She restarted, again. “ _Fourth era, two hundred. Eighteen of Morning Star. I've set up camp inside the barrow. This has to be the place. According to all of my research, the burial chamber should be located here. All I need is some time undisturbed to find the claw. It must be hidden here somewhere._ ”

Rose clicked her tongue, looked at the elf, and wondered what did a ‘claw’ had anything to do with... anything, really.

“ _Fourth era, two hundred. Twenty-fifth of Morning Star. Had a close call today with-_ ” she pauses and turns the page, “- _that fool Wilhelm. He came close to entering the barrow, but I was able to scare him off by rattling some pottery shards in a bag. These people are far too superstitious for their own good. Gives me an idea_...” Rose looked again at the elf, raised a finger in his direction, and tutted at him reproachingly, “That is not nice, mister.”

Ignoring another eye-roll, Rose moved the chair a little backwards, sat, and raised her feet to the table. Comfortable, but still missing something, she remembered the contains of her backpack and smirked. Yes, a loli is just what she needs right now. With a motion of her hand, her pocket storage opened and she took one out, unwrapping it and throwing the plastic back inside before closing the gap in reality that the man on the floor was eyeing oddly.

“What, have you never seen a personal pocket dimension before?” She snorted and sucked the loli to her mouth for a moment before reading. “Let’s see. Where were we? Humm... _Fourth era, two hundred. Twenty-eight of Morning Star. After a few failures, I've come up with a mixture that should do the trick. The glow is perfect - I should look exactly like one of the supposed spirits the people of Ivarstead believe is haunting this barrow. Going to test it out tomorrow._ ” Rose hummed, sucking on the cherry candy and popping the loli out of her mouth loudly. “Handsome _and smart_? What the hell are you doing wasting your life here, Wyndelius?” She asked turning to the elf once more, silently enjoying the faint blush her words brought to his cheeks. It was odd; they turned a darker shade of grey instead of red. Shaking her head, she continued as if she didn’t notice. “Fucking unbelievable.”

Sucking on the loli once more, she continues a moment later, “ _Fourth era, two hundred. Twenty-nine of Morning Star. Success! It worked better than I could have imagined. All I had to do was wander about the entrance to the barrow at night and wave,_ ” another change of page and she uses the pause to lick the cherry loli, “- _my arms about. I had to stop myself from laughing aloud as they ran away. This should keep them at bay while I continue searching for the claw._ ” Moving the loli to the side with her tongue, the candy hit her teeth loudly, “I have to admit, that was very ingenious; but still not nice.”

The man shrugged on the floor and Rose had to resist laughing at it. Yeah, in his position she wouldn’t give a flying fuck either, it _is_ funny!

“ _Fourth era, two hundred. Eleven of Heartfire. Almost half a year has passed and no sign of the claw or any clues as to its whereabouts. This is becoming maddening. It has to be here! Can't risk hiring any assistance, so I'll have to continue alone._ ” This time she merely shakes her head and keeps going, “ _Fourth era, two hundred_. _Twenty of Sun’s Dusk. It isn't here. It can't be here. This isn't right. It must be the people of Ivarstead... they must be on to my ruse, and they're toying with me. They want to find the burial chamber on their own and keep the riches for_ -” she hums as she passes the page, “- _themselves!_ ” Rose snorts. “Wow, okay.” She looks down at the elf, “I think such a long time by yourself inside this barrow wasn’t a good idea from your part, buddy,” she says causing another blush to surface, but maybe not because he was as happy this time around.

Without preamble, Rose finishes reading the last two entries. “ _Fourth era, two hundred. Eighteen of Evening Star. Why? Why are they tormenting me? Why not just destroy me? I'm... who am I? My head is becoming clouded, I can't remember anything. I have to read my journal to remember my purpose. Am I a part of this tomb? Am I meant to guard it? What's becoming of me?_ ” Rose eyed the Dunmer sideways with a little worry, but keeps reading soon after as she frowns at the final note. “ _First...era? One thousand and fifty..._ Uh-oh... _...They shall not take my treasure. They shall all pay dearly for their crimes. Any who set foot within these walls will taste my wrath, my power. I am the guardian of Shroud Hearth Barrow! All who oppose me will fall..._ Humm...Okay.”

Rose sighs, puts down the journal on the table, and covers her face with her hands. _What in the rotting coils of Fate?!_ Seriously, what happened to this guy? One moment he’s fine and the next he’s...

First era?

...Surely not.

Taking a look at the elf, Rose asks a question once more. “Are you possessed but the spirit of whoever’s buried down here?”

And of course, the elf merely stares back without an answer.

Rose rubs her temples, “Kuso!2 This was much easier in my head, when I didn’t know you went completely off the bend...”

And now she feels a little bad for playing around with the man so much...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Chikushô: Fuck. Japanese.  
> 2 Kuso: Shit. Japanese.


End file.
